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His words land like a blow.
I look away, fighting the emotion clawing its way through me. My mother… she’d have so much to say about the state of my life. About the mess I’ve made. And yet, I can’t help thinking she’d like Legion. She’d thank him. And tend to his garden. Commune with the magic of this realm. She’d love it here. She’d love him. Someone who could handle my temper and irrational need to argue things to death.
Seeing him through her eyes hurts.
Legion says he has this supposed moon fever, but where’s his urgency? His madness? Am I that undesirable that he can just stand here before me looking bored or angry or anything but the way I feel about him?
Suddenly, it’s all too much. And I refuse to let him see that.
Without offering him another word, I step around him and into my room. I can feel his gaze following me, but he doesn’t try to stop me as I shove the door closed, shutting him out as far as I’m able.
Chapter 18
Tori
Cleaning off the blood and dirt is easier than healing my aching heart. So, that’s what I do. After an hour’s soak in my giant bathtub, I am starting to come around to the luxury of this place. Not that I will ever admit that to a soul, especially Legion.
He pissed me off earlier, but our conversation also served as a reminder of one very important fact: He’s my enemy. And I don’t care what he says about this curse, I know he’s the one who cast it. I can’t let myself forget that again.
Toweling off, I wander back into the bedroom and pull open the wardrobe against the wall. For the first time since arriving, I don’t grab the first thing I see and instead take the time to dig through what’s here. It’s stocked with clothing—some I recognize from my own closet at home and some unfamiliar though perfectly sized. There are even extra gloves and scarves to choose from.
I also find a hairbrush and various creams in the bathroom drawer, which I try to hate but just can’t. Even if these things were put here for his “other guests,” and even if they were chosen by a fourteen-year-old girl, I’m grateful for the fact that they’re here at all. For the first time in a decade, I’m not the one who has to think of everything.
I decide right here and now to enjoy the safety this room offers me as long as I can. And to find some way to repay Chaya for letting me have this reprieve. Kendall’s safety and my survival are still mine to figure out, but for now, just this once, I don’t think about any of it.
I spend the entire afternoon in my room, mostly because it’s the only place I can risk not being covered in layers of fabric. It’s only been days since this curse took over my life, forcing me to cover every inch of my skin or risk hurting the ones I love, but it feels like years. I find myself enjoying the simple sensation of sitting around, exposing my skin to the air.
Soon enough, I run out of distractions, leaving my thoughts to wander all sorts of dark places. Eventually, I’m forced to leave if only to find more supplies to keep me busy. And food wouldn’t hurt either, as evidenced by my growling stomach.
After rewrapping my face and donning fresh gloves, I slip out of my room, stopping at Kendall’s door, but after a swift knock and a look inside, I find the room empty. At the bottom of the stairs, Kendall’s voice reaches me from the dining room. Chaya responds, and I start heading that way, hoping to use the meal time to find out more about Chaya and thank her for the clothing and toiletries.
But before I make it that far, two male voices drift toward me from the opposite direction. Curious, I follow the sound until I reach a set of heavy wooden doors cracked open wide enough to scent cigars and wood smoke wafting out.
Moving silently, I inch closer, peering through the opening to see Legion sprawled in a large chair. He holds a glass in one hand while the other rests casually on the armrest. His hair is a bit more tousled than I’ve seen, and his expression is relaxed—almost friendly.
Whoever sits opposite of him says something, and Legion throws his head back and laughs. I stare at him, completely mesmerized. He’s nearly unrecognizable to me, like he’s allowed himself to let his guard down. Something he doesn’t do with me, apparently.
The stranger across from him says, “Do you believe her?”
“About my bloodline?” Legion asks, his smile fading as the familiar shadows darken his gaze. “I don’t know.”
“Does she have a reason to lie?” the man asks.
“Everyone in Tartarus has a reason to lie,” Legion says.
The stranger chuckles. “Good point.”
Legion sips his drink and stares into the fire. I study his profile, admiring the angle of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbone.
“So, you’re just going to keep her locked up here forever. Pining for her but never touching her?”
The stranger’s words snap me out of my daydreaming.
“Go to hell,” Legion grumbles.
Ditto.
“And her sister?” the man says. “Two for one?”
