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1
I was doomed.
There was something sinister about the way a wet male body could feel against an innocent girl. How easy it was for Cyderial to distract me with touch. All under the guise that I would be calmed and feel better after a hot shower.
“Come.” Finger crooking, he’d drawn me from the bed.
Like a nervous vorec cub, I followed.
The more I learned of this man, the more I recognized that my years of observation, of my aversion to his iron fist, had shown me none of his true colors. I had been utterly fooled, and so had the humans who’d placed him in power.
He was dangerous in ways I had not considered.
A potential landmine of enticing smiles and soft words, set to explode and wreak havoc should his mate “be compromised.” And what that might mean to a brain as drunk on my song as his?
I now understood that newly mated males were unstable.
And Cyderial had already been unstable for years.
What did that make him now?
He led me across his bedroom toward the washroom, gentle with me, slow, as if I might bolt or struggle. Drawing me forward with eager grace and softly murmured encouragement, he persuaded. “Trust me to show you how well I can care for you.”
Trust? I had none. But I did have the impetus to learn all I could, to measure his behavior, and study the person who might have absolute control over the rest of my ageless life.
Someone who was already far more experienced, a proven tactician, and well-connected.
A General.
Where I had not even officially graduated from the academy—a subpar student with a reputation for deviousness and escape.
“Lorieyn, you do not need to look so scared.”
Scared? And here I thought I was being brave, allowing him to pull my naked body closer to the shower. I even thought my expression was passive. After all, it was the same countenance I would wear each time I cheated on my exams.
Yet, Cyderial could see right through me.
He could see through me, but I could not fathom what went on in his mind.
Another reminder I was thoroughly outmatched.
After leading me right into the cage of his bathing cubical, smiling, he urged me deeper into the enclosed space. With a wary eye, I watched as he adjusted the settings before water began to cascade over the pair of us.
I jumped with that first hit of spray. I may have even let out a very unsoldierlike yip. But jets of hot liquid came and warmed stiff muscle, pulsating up and down my spine, moving around me in a dance that rinsed the worst of the previous night’s residue from my skin.
“I knew you’d enjoy it.” His grin was feral, as was the way his eyes ran over my body when a long breath escaped my throat. “Good girl. Allow yourself to relax. You are safe with me.”
He was going to stay there, wasn’t he? Crowding me in the shower as he watched me scrub.
My unsaid irritation at his lingering presence evaporated far too quickly, warm water rinsing away my shame. And I did indulge a little. Otherwise, how was I to stay sane? Tipping my head back when a waterfall began to pour from above, feeling a silken stream running over my face, I sensed he sidled closer, placing his body between myself and the door.
Still, I sucked in a gasp when his whisper came to my ear. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
One moment, I had been marveling at how exotic it felt to wash in warm water; the next, I was so startled I failed to snatch my arm away before he might take a hold of me. Yet, his onslaught seemed innocent enough; he only meant to rub silken foaming gel into my flesh.
He intended to clean me as if I were a child.
Yet, this was no innocent ritual. Wielding no pretense, Cyderial sought to entice. Long strokes, kneading fingers, while he lathered my arm as if touching it was a gift.
