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Mira’s lips, painted the color of a plum, quirked. “What makes you think you have a choice?”
Naia ground her jaw. “It is my body.”
“Your body was brought into this world by me,” Mira stated, matter of fact.
Naia scoffed, her chest tightening. “Are you implying that because you gave me life, I am owned by you?”
“Precisely.”
Resentment echoed in the hard strum of Naia’s heartbeat. The back of her nose burned, and against her will, her vision blurred with tears.
“And if I do not?” She forced out the words through a steel voice.
Mira cocked her head, the gesture patronizing. The movement clinked the jewels weaved throughout her silver strands. “Then I will make you.”
Defeat gutted Naia with all the gruesome ways Mira could force her to lay with Solaris if she refused. Resistance would only bring more trauma and pain upon them.
Naia flicked her gaze to Solaris, analyzing his subdued, obedient demeanor, and the dissociated glaze in his eyes. Mira had sucked his soul dry somehow.
Naia walked the small distance to him, mimicking her father’s elegant composure and grace. Crying and fighting would only prolong the situation and give Mira an excuse to belittle her.
Solaris watched her carefully, his eyes full of reservations.
Naia grabbed his hand. It was like holding a river stone that had scorched beneath the summer sun. She had no desire to touch him, to give him this part of herself, but he was still the boy she’d known since they were children. Regardless of his failures, he had a good heart, and for now, it had to be enough.
Solaris regarded her with a tense expression, reluctant to reciprocate her touch. Something about it reminded her of a child. How she’d watched the children in the village look up at their mothers when they were told to do something they did not want to.
What had she and Solaris done to deserve such an insufferable life? It was not fair. Whichever way Naia looked at it, she couldn’t fathom the reason or purpose of their lives. Mortals with their glass shells of skin found reasons to live every day. What was the point of immortality when her fate was an eternity of misery?
With trembling lips, Naia nodded once to Solaris, giving him consent. He hesitated, his gaze flicking over Naia’s head onto Mira.
Naia knew she would not leave until she saw the act for herself.
Bile pushed up Naia’s throat as she planted her palm on Solaris’s warm chest, easing him until his back met the bookcase.
His gaze fell onto her, apprehensive. I don’t want to do this, it said.
“It is just us,” she whispered.
He cupped her cheek, anguish in the trace of his touch. “I apologize, love.”
In his words, she heard the brutal, torturous mutual acceptance.
Solaris kissed her, and Naia floated somewhere far away. Far from the feel of his hands pulling up her velvet gown and finding purchase on the backs of her thighs.
He hauled her up and spun them both around. Her shoulder blades pressed against the spine of the books. She forced her eyes shut to avoid the sight of Mira standing in the shadows, watching.
Solaris trailed his lips down her jawline to her collarbone.
“Do you want me to keep going?” she felt him murmur against her skin.
She knew what he was asking. His intention was to prepare her body, but, in a twisted sense, Naia looked forward to the physical pain promised. The body can only tolerate one form of pain. She’d read less than a few minutes ago in her book. A pain that would take place of the misery hacking through her chest.
Naia did not approve of the hatred flooding her system, making a home in her. She needed to focus on something else; to deaden her fury, and the dangerous desire to burn Kaimana and everything belonging to Mira to ash.
“No.”
Solaris unbuttoned his trousers and drove into her.
