“What?” It seemed to be the only word I was currently capable of saying.
“Io mentioned that your maid wasn’t feeling well, so I volunteered to come help. And letting me be of service to you would be an excellent birthday gift.”
My legs began to tremble. His request didn’t make any sense but I was afraid of contradicting him because I wanted him to continue.
Tell him no,I told my reflection.Order him to stop. Buried alive. Staying worthy.
His warm, clever fingers went to the clasp of my necklace. “Do you know how beautiful you look tonight?”
Was this some kind of trick? “You’ve never said that before,” I told him warily. As Jason he had, but never as Xander.
“That you’re beautiful?” He held the necklace with both of his hands and let the pendant sway. First he brushed it against one breast, and then the other. My breath caught, and everywhere the cool metal caressed burned in response. “You are. I think it every minute of every day. How beautiful you are and how wretched I am that I don’t get to tell you.”
My lungs constricted as my heart slammed against my rib cage. As if I were being punched internally.
What was happening?
He let the necklace drop to the ground. Then he tilted my head with one hand and used the others to run his fingers along the exposed skin. I bit back a sound as tiny bumps formed on my throat everywhere that he touched.
“You always seem like steel wrapped in silk. Impenetrable. Unyielding. Moments like this remind me how soft and vulnerable you truly are. How delicate and fragile.”
“Are you planning on snapping my neck?” I asked, alarmed.
I could hear the smile in his voice. “No. I have much more pleasurable plans for your neck.”
His lips pressed at that spot just under my ear that drove me mad. Blood raced so quickly through my veins I began to feel lightheaded.
“Did Io talk to you?” It was difficult to form words, to fight off the sensations he made skate across my skin with the simplest of touches.
“My sister does nothing but sing your praises all day, as if you were some kind of ancient hero to be memorialized in song and poetry.” That sounded like Io. Then he added, “And I’m finding that I agree.”
There had to be a reason he was doing this. “Did she tell you that we have to ... uh ... we have to ...” His lips had replaced his fingers and I couldn’t finish my sentences.
“We have to what, Lia?” It was easier for me when he called me “wife.” His voice caressing my name, it was too much to take. “What do you and I have to do?”
He returned to kissing my neck, darting the tip of his tongue out to taste me, and I had to put my hand against the mirror so that I wouldn’t collapse.
When I didn’t answer, he added, “I can think of some things that we could do.” He traced my collarbone with his fingertip, still kissing my neck. My stomach bottomed out and everywhere he touched lit up, as if sunlight were going to burst out of my skin.
I forced myself to think. Io hadn’t told him how to break the connection. So why was he doing this?
I had to speak. To say something to get him to stop. But the only thing I could think to say was, “Rokh is a bird.”
“A raven,” he corrected me as he continued his exploration of my skin.
That hardly seemed like the point. “Your brother shape-shifts into a bird. Raven.”
“I’m aware.”
It seemed inane that we were having this conversation while he dragged his fingers from my collarbone down in between my breasts, coming to a stop at my stomach and flattening his hand there.
“He’s been Ahyana’s pet for years.” I tried to ignore the heat he pressed into my skin, the way his calloused fingers felt so deliciously different against my own softness.
“And now he’s her soulmate.”
How could he be so cavalier about this? “Ahyana can’t be with him. She’s taken vows.”
“Vows that she thinks shouldn’t exist. Vows that should be ignored.”