I pushed the tip of the blade a tiny bit into his skin. “What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
He smirked at me. “I just followed the blood and screaming and it led me straight to you.”
“You’re not funny.”
“Disagree.”
His eyes glittered in the low light, full of intensity and heat and want. I felt sweat breaking out along my hairline, my lips tingling, my stomach throbbing. Seeing him again, it was like I was back in a dream, delirious from all the wicked things he did to me with his mouth and fingers.
This moment didn’t feel real.
“You seem stronger,” he observed, echoing my own observations from a few moments ago.
“Would you like to see how strong?” I asked, letting the point of my sword further pierce his skin. He didn’t even flinch when a tiny drop of blood appeared.
He took my measure and then leaned gently toward me. He was harming himself, the forward motion causing the point of my sword to dig deeper into his neck. He didn’t seem to care, though. He kissed me, briefly, shockingly. My body turned liquid, loose.
“As weak as any other woman when it comes to that,” he murmured.
Angry, both with him and myself, I tightened my grip on his tunic and reminded him of my blade against his throat. The drop of the blood had turned into a tiny trickle. “Never do that again.”
“Never?” he repeated playfully, his eyebrows raised. “Never is a long time, Lia. You might get lonely in your temple.”
I ordered my lips to stop aching, but they did not obey.
“Did you not want me to kiss you?” he asked softly. “I thought that you did.”
It didn’t matter whether I had wanted it. Yes, I had been desperate for his mouth on mine, more than anything, but there was no point.
He reached up and touched my hair. “Did you do this?”
My hair had grown half an inch in the last month, but I still felt extremely self-conscious about it. But he wasn’t looking at me like he found my short hair unattractive. “No, it was done to me.”
“Why?”
“To humiliate and degrade me. To make it so I wouldn’t forget that I didn’t belong.”
“Who did it?” he demanded in a tone that implied he was going to hunt those people down and make them suffer.
A thrill rang through me at his unspoken threat.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said.
He was still running his fingers along the edges of my hair when I heard a loud groan behind us. For a single moment I was afraid that I was the one who had made it because he was touching me.
“We should get off the street before a patrol happens by or those men come to,” he said. “I don’t imagine they’re very pleased with you. And I would prefer you not slip and accidentally cut my throat.”
I had forgotten I had my sword still pressed against his neck. I took a step back and released him.
“There’s somewhere I can go. I was planning on stopping by there, anyway. You should go back to your ship,” I said. “I don’t need your help.”
“I can see that,” he said. “But if I get caught, I’ll be accused of being your accomplice. We should stay together. Just in case.”
That was a nonsensical reason, but I didn’t actually want him to leave. “Fine. I suppose you can tag along if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” he said gallantly while wiping his throat with the edge of his cloak. For a moment I was struck by the urge to apologize for doing anything to maim his perfect skin but brushed it off.
We walked away from the mess I’d made, with him staying a step behind me. When we passed by the leader of the group who had attacked me, it took all my willpower not to kick him in the ribs.