Page 9 of Reigning
Or he would be if he were my Rime.
I keep myself hidden beneath the frothy white bubbles and I still haven’t decided how I’m going to sneak out of this bath in the least provocative way possible. I’m modest. For the very first time in my life possibly.
I glance from the bath to the soft white towel that’s perched on the table near the door. Right next to him. Perfect.
Just great.
“Can you hand me that towel?” The smile I plaster on my face and his eyes narrow on me. He’s suspicious of my kindness.
Some things never change.
I point to the towel. He glances down at said towel. He lounges a little more. I point again. He glances.
“Please. The towel.”
Another quiet glance.
Nothing. He does nothing.
He wants to see me in a weak state. He wants to toy with me.
I close my eyes slowly and exhale a sigh instead of saying the damn word one more time.
The warm water glides over my body, raining down on the bubbles below as I stand. It’s like an announcement. This. This is what gets his attention, finally.
Maybe I should make all my requests completely nude from now on. That’s apparently how you get things done.
Despite my frustrations and my confidence, my foot slides the moment I touch the floor. And he’s striding toward me like a knight ready to save the day.
Or kill the princess. Both are plausible.
I slash my hand out fast with a stream of white magic. It halts him in place while I fumble around until I right my footing. I pass the motionless shifter, taking my fluffy towel and wrapping myself up nicely and then facing him again. I release my hold on the shifter.
“Are we going to play nice from now on?” I ask with a tip of my chin.
He ambushes me.
I fully believe this dragon wants to kill me. He doesn’t have Rime’s fond memories of us, that slow building relationship we somehow found ourselves in.
That part of this beast isn’t here. And I’m just someone in his way.
His big palms grip my hips, and I snap my magic right back into place before he can drive me to the floor. His rigid body is flexed, poised, and ready but unmoving once again.
“Things are so much better for us if you just play nice, Rime.” I slip out of his grasp and start to brush out my hair with an ivory comb. A warped mirror lined in a marble frame reflects my image in the foggy surface. I glance back at him, and my heartbeat dips at the thought crosses my mind.
I release him. He stumbles without my body in front of him. A scuffing sound follows when he pivots and rushes me for a third time.
A final time.
Strong hands clasp over my hips from behind, and just when his chest meets my back, I halt him in place. From this angle, the aggression in his eyes can’t be seen. He appears affectionate, his blond hair skimming my shoulder like he might kiss there tenderly. The palms spread wide over my hips might seem to be a caress if a stranger saw the two of us just as we are. I study us in the distorted reflection: the sweet shifter and his loving mate.
What a twisted perspective this mirror shows us as this morning.
I can’t help but want to cling to that delusion for a little bit longer.
I lower the comb and slide my fingers between his, settling my head back to rest against his chest. He’s warm and strong. Everything in the world, outside of this bathroom, feels obsolete. Us. That’s what’s important.
Someday, we’ll be us again. We’ll be normal and in love and so fucking happy it’ll make us sick.
