Fifty-Three
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Dianna. 91 Days.
I didn’t know how long I’d lain in bed or how much time had passed. The
sun rose and fell. I slipped in and out of sleep, crying in both. Dreams of
my childhood haunted me. My thoughts cycled, reminding me of where I was, what I was, and who I no longer had. All I knew was that my mind was my prison, and I was the jailer with the key. A key I didn’t know how to use, and to be honest, I didn’t know if I wanted my cell unlocked. The note she’d left me was smeared with my tears, but I refused to release it. I had read it over and over again, cursing the old dead gods.
Silver light shot across the sky, and I tracked its progress through the windows. My heart faltered, and I cursed myself, too.
He entered the house, and I turned over, covering my head with the blankets so tightly that no light could sneak in. I didn’t hear him enter the room, but I felt him. The bed shifted beneath his weight, a rough sigh
leaving his lips.
“I know you’re not asleep.”
I said nothing.
“Have you been in bed this whole time?”
I grunted my response, a mix of fuck you and fuck off.
The bed shifted again, and he ripped the covers from my face. I squinted at him through the mess of hair half covering my face.
“It’s been three days, Dianna.”
I turned my head, looking toward the window. Three days? It felt like hours.
Samkiel picked up the photo from the bedside table. It had broken when I slammed it against the counter during our fight, and now a crack marred
the glass. It ran between Gabby and me, separating us just like I had done
all those years ago.
“I ruin everything.”
I didn’t realize I’d spoken until the raspy itch tickled my throat. Samkiel brushed his thumb across the fractured glass. The frame shook as the cracks filled, leaving it whole and undamaged.
“Well, lucky for you, I am here to fix it.”
My head turned toward him, a spark of warmth seeping through my chest before I extinguished it. “Well, you can’t fix me.”
I tried to pull the covers over my head again, but they wouldn’t budge.
He was sitting on them, his weight too much for me to shift without my power.
“When was the last time you showered?” Samkiel asked with a raised
brow.
I glared at him and flipped him off.
“If you wish to ease your anger in that way instead of yelling, I will not refuse. I told you, you merely have to ask.”
I struggled to free my feet from the blankets so I could kick him.
“You are so easy to agitate,” he mocked.
I growled and continued to pull at the blankets, unwilling to admit defeat. “It’s only because you’re annoying.”
“As are you. Now come on. Get up.” Samkiel stood. “We’re getting you out of the house.”
I crowed in triumph, even though I had done nothing. The covers went over my head, but he stripped them away a moment later. I squealed as he leaned down and scooped me into his arms. All the air rushed out of my lungs as he tossed me over one broad shoulder.
“Samkiel!” I gasped, slapping his back as he carried me toward the bathroom. “You ass! Put me down. I can walk.”
He chuckled and tightened his grip on my legs, his arms like steel bands. Once in the enormous bathroom, the world titled and shifted, my ass hitting the cold stone of the countertop. I kicked and swatted at him with one hand while trying to push the tangled hair from my eyes with the other.
He laughed outright this time and started rolling up the sleeves of his council garbs.
Samkiel strode to the large tub and pressed a silver button. A waterfall appeared, colored lights dancing through the drops in a sparkling display.
“That’s a bathtub?” I asked, my eyes roaming over it. I had never seen anything like it.
“Well, that answers my question about whether you have used it.”
I grabbed a small bottle off the counter and threw it at him.
Samkiel caught it mid-air and smiled as he removed the lid. The scents of jasmine and lemon filled the room as he poured half of the contents into the tub, the water turning a smooth cream color.
“Are you going to wash me too?”
I shouldn’t have asked because the smile that lit his face made my
stomach flip.
“If you wish.”
My body shouldn’t have heated at the low, sultry invitation in his tone. I shouldn’t have had a million different images running through my brain at the mere thought of accepting. Yet here I was, my nipples hardening and my body a godsdamn betrayer. He knew it too, knew that some part of me, even against my better judgment, reacted to his flirtatious, heated words. Fine.
He wanted to play this game. We could. Only I would be the victor.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he caught my hesitation.
I didn’t need my powers to feel his energy shift as I slipped with sinuous ease from the counter. Call it boredom, irritation, or maybe I was just a ruthless bitch tired of crying, but I wanted to feel something besides the empty ache in my chest. I ran my hand over the thin strap of the cami I wore. Samkiel’s eyes followed my every movement, a moth drawn to a flame, and I wanted him to burn.
I gripped the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the side. Samkiel licked his lips, his gaze locking on my breasts and staying. I could feel the heat of it as if it were a physical touch. I cupped their weight, my fingers sliding over my nipples, teasing him. He let out a small strangled moan but didn’t move.
My hands moved, running across my ribs and lower. Deliberately, I ran my fingers along the waistband of my lounge pants. Samkiel’s eyes followed, his irises edged with pure silver. I rolled my hips in a rhythm meant to tease and entice. His chest heaved, and he held his breath.
The waistband slipped over my hips, and my pants pooled around my feet. I stepped out of them, standing before him naked. I padded toward him with the effortless grace of a predator. He drank me in as if he was afraid this was a dream, and he was committing every curve, indentation, swell to
memory. He may have been one of the most powerful beings in this world and the next, but in that moment, I had the power, and I reveled in it.
He watched me approach, silver sparking in his eyes, but he didn’t move or speak. I stopped just inches from him, the heat of his body a beacon. His hands closed into fists, and his body trembled as he held himself in place. I slid my fingers over his chest, tugging playfully at the silver buttons on his council garbs.
Heat pooled low in my belly. I rested one hand on Samkiel’s broad shoulder and looked up at him through my lashes. Pushing to my tiptoes, I leaned in against him and whispered, “Maybe another time.”
I shoved against his shoulder, hard enough to jolt him, and walked to the tub. Truthfully, it was more of a pool than a tub, water still pouring into it from above. I stepped beneath the warm water, letting it rush over me before I waded deeper. I settled on a seat and slicked my wet hair back from my face before turning to face Samkiel. He was still staring at me, squeezing the bottle in his hand so hard it was a wonder it hadn’t broken.
“It’s rude to stare, you know?”
Samkiel jerked as if I’d startled him. He licked his lips and said, “I’ll make you something to eat.” His voice was rough and had dropped an octave. I smirked, knowing I had won. He turned away from the tub and strode from the room.
“You don’t even know how to cook!” I called after him.
I didn’t hear a response, which meant he’d probably sprinted once he was outside the bathroom. For the first time in a long time, I genuinely smiled and sank deeper into the fragrant water.
I took my time washing my hair and letting the heat ease my muscles.
The water ran the whole time, never overfilling and never getting cold. I stepped out and wrapped myself in a thick, soft towel before returning to my room. I pulled on comfortable clothes, brushed my hair back, and
padded downstairs barefoot.
“You smell better.”
“Shut up.”
I sat at the island, watching Samkiel shape what looked like multi- colored dough. He placed a few pieces on two plates and held his hand over them. Light poured from his palm, and they rose slightly before turning a
golden brown.
“That’s cheating,” I said.
“Don’t worry. As you said, I may not know how to cook, but I know how to survive.”
I nodded, adjusting my seat. So he had heard me. He slid a plate toward me and sat down. Besides the bread and what looked like their version of eggs, he’d piled it high with various colorful fruits. It was beautiful, yet my
stomach didn’t growl or rumble.
“You’re not sleeping.”
I stabbed my fork at the food. “And how would you know?”
He cut a slice of fruit and placed it in his mouth. “The dark circles under your eyes.”
My mouth fell open. I tossed a piece of fruit at him, but he just caught it and popped it into his mouth. “You can’t just tell a woman she has bags under her eyes. Holy gods, it’s no wonder you are still alone.”
“So you aren’t sleeping?” he asked, completely unfazed.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, not really.”
“I can help.”
“Oh, yeah?” I folded my arms, leaning back in my seat. “Is this another flirty proposition?”
Samkiel grinned, his mood brightening, but he ignored my barb.
“Depends if you’re going to disrobe in front of me again.”
“Depends if you’re nice or not.”
He lifted a brow. “I would suggest not.”
My eyes narrowed on him as he continued to eat.
“I am going to be perfectly clear with you. My feelings for you have not changed since Chasin, regardless of yours. Teasing is not fun for me. Do not do it again unless you wish for a different outcome.”
I knew he meant every word, and heat pooled in my core. His gaze never left mine, not as he spoke and not as he took a sip of his water. I watched the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed. No matter how I wanted to deny it, I wanted him. What fool wouldn’t? But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t continue to test him.
“And what outcome would that be, oh annoying one?”
“I told you before I would show you eight ways to make you forget that hideous friend word. Tease me again, and I shall show you twelve, and after your little display, we’ll start in the bathroom,” he said, taking another bite.
I watched as his lips closed over the fork.
My thighs squeezed together, and I shifted, a flutter of need building in my core that only he had any hope of easing. Even having him for a moment, I knew what he was capable of. I wondered if we fucked hard enough if we’d break the bathroom itself. Crossing my arms, I leaned forward. I knew the tightness of my nipples would tell him what illicit images just scraped across my brain. My face flushed, but he only smiled and took another bite of food. The cocky bastard knew what he did to me, and he reveled in it.
I wanted to snap back with words just as enticing to show him I had power over him as he did me, but another part of me clawed its way forward. I glanced at him from under my lashes and picked up my fork. For once, he wasn’t looking at me. What was I doing? I was sitting here flirting with him again as if nothing had happened.
“That’s what hurts the most, isn’t it? You fell in love with him while Kaden took your sister.”
Guilt nipped at me, extinguishing the heat of my lust as quickly as water against flame.
“Fine,” I bit back harshly. “I’ll make sure I never do that again.” I shifted in my seat, placing a hand under my chin as I poked at my food.
Samkiel made a low noise in his throat. “Doubtful.”
“Do you ever tire of being an arrogant, know-it-all beast?” I asked, striking out at him. It hurt both of us, but I had to because the alternative was too damned brutal.
Silence fell in the room, a growing chasm stretching between us.
And a lock on a door in a house rattled.
“Eat.” He nodded toward my untouched plate.
“No.”
I wasn’t hungry. I hadn’t been since I came back.
“You have to try to eat at least a small meal for what I have planned.”
I folded my arms, glaring at him. “And what do you have planned?”
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