I wasn’t strong enough, not then, and I paid the price.
By the time I gained enough power to travel into Greed, I’d lost count of how many demons I’d killed. There were no rules in the pits, no consequences. Cassia would never look at me the same if she knew the things I’ve done.
I rest my forehead against hers, inhaling her scent. It’s not as potent as usual. She must be drained, too.
Her hands slide to my waist, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes as she begins tugging my pants down my legs. She’s so demanding.
“Are you hungry?” she asks.
Is she offering to bring me food? It’s kind, which is awfully unlike her. She’s trying.
“No,” I say.
I help her remove my pants, then pause. Cassia wants to see my wound, and I remain still as she circles me. She does so three times, her fingers carefully stroking the edges of my injury. My healing has slowed, but it’ll speed up once I’ve rested.
It’s hard not to react to her seeing my scars. I’m ashamed of them.
I suspect Aziel gained access to my medical records and uncovered my parents’ abuse once I began working for him, and he wasn’t pleased. We’ve never directly spoken about it, but he took care of the situation.
My parents were stripped of their wealth and titles, and now they live in shame on the outskirts of Wrath. It’s enough for me. I don’t think about them, and I don’t want to. I hope Cassia doesn’t bring up murdering them again. I want her to forget it.
She doesn’t acknowledge my scars as she examines my wound, which I’m grateful for.
She clears her throat before pulling away. “Stay here.” She hurries into my bathroom, returning a few moments later with a wet washcloth. I cleaned myself while stuck in the infirmary, but that was hours ago.
Cassia’s nerves are flooding our bond, and if this is what she needs to settle, then who am I to deny her? She wipes at my skin, and several minutes pass before she deems me clean enough.
“Lie down.” She points to my bed. “Sleep.”
Her crazy eyes are out. I brush my fingers over her eyebrows, subtly signaling for her to lower her eyelids. She opens them so wide when she’s upset, and as endearing as it is, it’s a dead giveaway to her inner emotions.
I’ve noticed people reacting to it.
Cassia relaxes, her eyelids lowering to their natural position.
“I don’t have crazy eyes,” she mumbles.
That’s not an argument I’m looking to engage in.
“Lie down,” she repeats.
I bite back a laugh as I follow her instructions. I’m capable of putting myself to bed, but Cassia seems to be enjoying this. Who knew she could be nurturing?
I explore her through the bond as I settle into bed. She practically bit my head off when I tried earlier, which is exceptionally unfair, considering how often I’ve caught her prodding into me.
I’m careful to keep my searching surface level, not wanting Cassia to convince herself that I’m trying to trick her. She loves thinking the worst of me. We’ll have to work on that.
“Why’d you bite me?” I ask.
A flair of panic, then calculated emptiness. “Because I wanted to.”
I hum. She’s afraid of admitting she has emotions.
“Are you upset I bit you?” she asks.
“No.”
I figured it was only a matter of time. We’d placed our teeth on one another. We were playing a dangerous game, and we knew where it was heading. I wasn’t anticipating our bond happening so quickly after that, but I’m not disappointed.
