She observed him from under thick lashes for a long time, and his pulse quickened. Another odd little thing his human body did.
“Are you saying there are some advantages to being a lowly human like me?” Her lips lifted at one corner, breaking the tension.
He almost smiled. “I’d rather die than admit such a thing.”
A soft laugh lit her face, making his ears perk up. Things that shouldn’t make his heart race did. The world was upside down in this house, and he felt ironically stuck in time. Back to the boy he was in his castle, new and learning everything for the first time.
Kidan went to the liquor cabinet, grabbed a bottle, unscrewed the cap, and took a sip, making a face.
“I can’t wait until this is all over. Do you want some?” she said, wiping the drops that were trickling down her chin. A wild, disturbing urge to lick it seized him. For a moment, Susenyos thought his vampire side had awakened, but this wasn’t mind-consuming hunger. He was simply curious about how different she’d taste.
Kidan slid him a glance, blushed, and darted her eyes away.
“What?” he asked.
“Your eyes,” she said, playing with the bottle. “I could never read them before but now I can. And the room smells like the Bath of Arowa.”
He noticed it then, the sweet mist crowding them like a circle of clouds. “Oh.”
Her small laugh made his ears burn. A feeling he’d never had before. Or perhaps he had, when he was human, and had forgotten.
“I hate this.” He truly meant it.
Kidan’s brown face was glowing. “Now you know how I felt last time you sensed my… thoughts.”
“It’s not that you can sense it that’s bothering me,” he said slowly, trying toexplain the complexities of what his mind was going through. “It’s feeling… embarrassed.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m never embarrassed.”
“I’ve noticed. Even when you really, really should be.”
“Even when I should be,” he said seriously.
She grinned and the full force of it nearly made him blink. “Well, that’s what being human is. Being self-conscious. It sucks.”
His mouth soured at the word. He’d never realized those emotions—embarrassment, insecurity, shyness—had all been taken away when he’d become immortal. It only made him want to break the house law even more.
Kidan regarded him seriously. “You can’t tell me to embrace my darkness when you hate your humanity, you know. It doesn’t work like that. You can’t love only half of yourself.”
It took him by surprise. The words reached a part of Susenyos he’d tried to destroy, flooding him with unexpected warmth. Yet it was painful, like a gift he didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned. The thought made him frown, peer into himself. He expected his human self to prove his worth, to earn simple acts of kindness but placed no such pressure on his immortal self. How cruel, he thought. How cruel to set himself up for failure like this. He used to pity humans who fell into the same trap but here he was, caught.
Irritation grated on him in slow, condescending circles. He wished he could table these emotions to be dealt with at an appropriate time. Being human was inconvenience itself, the sum of pathetic ruminations and self-doubt.
And he told her so.
Surprisingly, Kidan’s lips quirked a little.
“You’re smiling?” he said.
Her tone was a soft murmur. “I just realized I like being inconvenienced by you. I can’t say that about a lot of people.”
His mouth parted, then shut, his dark brown eyes glinting. “Careful, that might be a love confession to rival the greats.”
Susenyos’s eyes roamed her brown face, trying to find hesitation. He could sense no trace of a lie. When had it happened? When had she considered him worthy of her time and attention?
“I hate that you know this part of me exists at all.” He sighed, took the liquor, and swallowed the burning alcohol. “What use am I to you like this?”
Kidan’s brows creased. Her eyes were an expanse of dark desert with a fire burning in the middle.
She traced her wrist. “Remember my bracelet? I think of that night a lot. Us on the tower… me wanting to let go.”