Page 63 of A Kiss From Death
I hear the trickle of water, feel the warm cloth touch my shoulder, and a shiver travels down my spine. He squeezes the rag, a stream of water cascading down my side, leaving goosebumps all over my skin. I let out a small hum of pleasure, the warm water soothing me. A low, satisfied growl escapes his throat, and my heart flutters in my chest.
He meticulously drags the rag across my shoulder, then down my arm, adding a dollop of soap to scrub me clean. He continues his pursuit across my chest, squeezing the rag again and letting the sudsy water drip down. The cold air makes my nipples pebble, chafing against the lacy fabric separating me from the cloth. I let out a soft moan, content on spending the rest of my day being bathed by the gentle brute behind me.
The noise lights a fire in him, his hand becoming more sure of itself, perusing every inch of my body. He moves the cloth slowly under my lacy strap before pausing. “Is this okay?” I hum happily, nodding my head before he continues dragging it down until the cloth slightly dips under the thin fabric covering my breast. “And this?”
“Yes,” I sigh.
He makes sure his skin never touches mine, using the cloth as a barrier to wash the sweat and blood away. The rag gently drags across my left nipple, my body pushing back against him withoutthought. My head tips up on its own accord, bearing my neck to him.
He reaches out with his other hand, gently wrapping his fingers around the base of my throat. Leaning down, he whispers against the shell of my ear in rasp, “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to focus on getting you clean.”
“Sorry,” I whisper, then swallow deeply, feeling his hand twitch around my neck. He peels his hand from my throat and brings the rag back to my front, dragging it down my stomach, making sure to avoid my wound. The rag cleans away each swipe of blood across my stomach and then down my thighs. He avoids getting too close to my center, trying to be a gentleman. I melt back into his chest, happily letting him take care of me.
He finishes with my front, then grips my shoulder, gently pushing me forward. I’m so lost in my relaxed haze, I don’t register what he’s doing until it’s too late. He collects my hair in his fist, slowly dragging it up and over my shoulder. I go to stop him, but it’s too late.
I try to turn away from him, but he plants his hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. I look forward, too embarrassed to face him. He’s deadly silent, and I can feel his heavy gaze searing my back that I’ve successfully kept hidden until now. He’s not saying anything, which is setting me more on edge. Seconds go by until I’m brave enough to swivel my neck and look back at him. What I see makes my heart lurch in my chest.
He sits frozen, his face ghostly pale. He’s staring at my back in shock, his eyes never blinking. I expected him to be mad or concerned, but not this. He looks like he’s seen a ghost, lost inside his beautiful head, trying to come to terms with whatever has him so shaken.
“Hade?” I say softly, getting his attention.
He blinks, snapping out of whatever world he was lost in, and lets out a low growl that makes little waves vibrate over the water.Now, he looks furious, fire dancing behind his eyes, promising retribution. If only he knew I learned to slay my own demons a long time ago.
“Who fucking did this to you?” he seethes behind me. “I need names.”
I try to shake my head for him to drop it, but he gives me a look full of pain, needing to fix me once again. If only it were that easy to erase the past.
“It doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago,” I whisper, trying to sound sure of myself.
“That’s where you’re wrong. Everything relating to you is the only thing that matters tome,” he says with unyielding certainty. “So, I won’t ask you again, Nyxi. Who hurt you?”
I shake my head, but he shoots me a pleading look that pulls at my heartstrings, making me want to spill all my deepest secrets for him to harbor with me.
I sigh, defeated. “The headmaster of the orphanage I was raised in was an older gentleman. If we acted out of line or did something he didn’t like, we would get sent for private lessons with him. Sometimes, we were sent just because he was having a bad day and needed to let off some steam, but he would never admit that. We would get sent for lessons if our shoes weren’t tied correctly, or if we didn’t sit straight enough at the dinner table. The lessons were supposed to teach us how to be better children so our chances of being adopted would go up.”
My body shakes a little as the nightmares of my past are dragged to the surface for me to face. Hade starts to trace each mark with his finger to soothe me, but for some reason, it feels like he is tracing a different pattern, the feeling abstract and foreign to me.
“He took a particular liking to me, so I was sent for more lessons than the other orphans. He had a thing for fire, something about burning away our sins to cleanse us. The marks on my backare supposed to be a reminder of each of my lessons so I may never forget.”
My chest feels lighter after digging up the pain from the past. The only other person who knew was Theo. He would help me when he could, taking care of me and cleaning my wounds after each lesson. He was the reason I made it out of there alive and with my sanity.
“Are each one of these burns across your back a lesson?” he asks softly, almost choking on his words, and I tentatively nod in answer.
His face grows red, the embodiment of rage. He stops his finger from tracing whatever mysterious pattern across my back, and his voice cracks the smallest amount.
“Nyxi, there are dozens of burn marks across your back.”
I don’t know what to say to that. I avoid looking at my back at all costs, not ready to face the memories. I lost count of each lesson long before they stopped.
“It’s in the past. There is nothing to do to change it now. Life goes on, whether you are ready to ride the wave with it or not. So, I did too,” I plainly say, willing him to understand I can’t change this, all the stuff that came before him.
“Life may go on, but that doesn’t meanhisshould. I would gladly burn him to a crisp in the name of your retribution. Let me be the match to your flame, the sword to your deadly blow, the magic to your pursuit to claim every last breath from his lungs.” His voice turns deathly low. “Use me as a weapon, and I will gladly deliver your demons to your feet for you to slay. I would love nothing more than to watch you take back your life by setting fire tohis.”
I’ve never felt such blind loyalty. This man would serve me my wildest demand on a silver platter without a single ounce of a second thought. It’s madness in theory, but this little thread growingbetween my soul and his makes me irrational. The way this man is laying his life before me makes me want to worship him.
My voice comes out soft and unaffected, but my heart rate tells a different story. “As riveting as that sounds, I have already slayed my demons. I’m not sure even your best Vanquisher could unearth what is left of him now. I’m no saint to worship, and I’m okay with that.”
His chest vibrates behind me as he grips my chin to look at him. “You can cover a saint in the blood of his enemies, but that does not taint who he is underneath all the gore. The same person remains hidden below; it just takes someone who’s fought the same battles to spot the holiness that lies beneath.” He looks between my eyes, peering so far inside me, I’m scared of what he’ll find. “Merit is in the eye of the beholder, and it is up to you whose eyes you value to truly see your worth. Don’t let the trials you’ve faced define how bright your light shines, Nyxi, because that would be devastating.”
