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Guilt stabs through my chest at the mention of her death. Evan knows exactly how to reel me in.
“I’ll do what I can,” I promise him. Maybe if I do this, he’ll forgive me.
“Don’t let them figure out what you know,” he warns me, a dark edge to his voice. “They’re dangerous men, Thalia.”
The phone clicks, and then he’s gone.
What the hell am I supposed to do now? According to my brother, everything my father ordered against me as a child was to keep me safe from the Kings. Something is off, but I can’t put my finger on what.
Anxiety spikes through me as I think about what I must do and what the Kings will do if they catch me.
Chapter 14
Thalia
Too nervous to go downstairs, I remain in my room, leafing through one of the books that was left on my bedside table. I’m unsure of how much time passes before a knock at my doors draws my attention away from my brooding thoughts.
“Yes?” I call out, my muscles tensing as the door opens. What if they heard everything between Evan and me and are waiting for a chance to punish me?
Asher stands in the doorway, one arm behind his back, dressed in a pair of black trousers and a thin navy-blue sweater. His dark mahogany skin glistens under the light as if there are facets of diamonds beneath it. Closing the book, I set it down and stand, my hands running nervously over the wrinkled dress. His keen eyes take in everything—the unmade bed, the discarded book, the closet door I left slightly ajar, and me.
His gaze caresses over me, noting my wrinkled dress and unbrushed hair. It’s almost like he’s cataloging me and storing it away for later. When it lands on the silver scar on my neck, his eyes flick to mine, and a glimmer of a smile seduces his lips.
“Did you sleep well?” he asks. His voice is a smooth timbre with a slight underlying French accent. I wonder where he got it. Was he born in France or in one of the French territories in the US? Like Drystan and Weylen, his body is covered in faint silver scars that are slightly more noticeable due to his skin’s dark hue.
“I did.” I purse my lips awkwardly before adding, “Thank you.”
“Put that on,” he tells me, his voice brooking no argument. I look down to find a few scraps of what look to be lingerie in his hands, along with a silk robe. I say scraps because that’s all they appear to be.
“Umm…” I hesitate. I’ve never worn anything like this before.
“I don’t like to be kept waiting, little lamb,” he says impatiently. “Put that on, or I will do it for you.”
Not wanting the second option, I make for the bathroom, but he stops me.
“You will change out here.”
“But—”
He cuts me off. “You will change out here,” he says again, his tone darkening. I swallow the lump that has grown in my throat. I’ve never changed in front of a man before. No one has ever seen me completely naked. Not even the guard I fucked back home. I always wore a dress for quick access since we never knew how much time we had. If the guard was ever to be discovered in my rooms or with me in the corridors, my father would have executed him and then punished me. So we were forced to nothing more than short rendezvous in an unsecured area of the house.
I set the lingerie down on the end of the bed to my right, and with shaky fingers, I pull off my dress. The room is cold, causing my nipples to pebble the moment the air hits them. I toss the dress to the side, not caring where it lands.
“Now the panties,” he instructs me when I hesitate. I clench my jaw, willing my body not to react to his words. They do something to me that I’m not ready to discuss just yet. That’s tomorrow Thalia’s problem.
His impassive expression doesn’t waver as I slide my nude panties down my legs. Then I’m standing bare before him since I hadn’t put on a bra and shoes earlier. Not that any of those things matter now.
With shaky hands, I slip on the red lace halter top that stops just below my breasts. It’s accompanied by a pair of high-waisted red lace panties. I quickly throw on the robe over top and cover myself with it, self-consciousness creeping through me. Asher steps toward me, his brow furrowed, eyes darkening.
“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he warns, his hands coming up to pull my robe apart, baring me to him. His hands caress my sides, exploring my vulnerable body. I arch into his touch, my body shivering with delight. He bends his head to my neck, his tongue sweeping against the scar that Weylen left. My knees nearly buckle at the heightened sensation that zips through me.
Holy shit.
“So sensitive,” he whispers seductively in my hair. “Such a good girl.”
Arousals seeps into my core, and I feel myself growing wet. He dips my head to the opposite side, letting my long hair cascade over the other shoulder. Asher runs his nose along the nape of my neck. His touch is sizzling, and I brace myself for what comes next.
Chapter 15
