“What are you, ten?” I side-eyed him as I pulled back my hair, neatly tying it in preparation for my warm-up run around the estate. “That’s the kind of retort I’d expect from a child.”
He didn’t bother to deny the accusation. “No running today. I need to assess where you’re at.”
I stilled. “Assess?”
“Yes. Sit.”
His frame was tense as he gestured to the empty space before him. My brows drew together as I sank to the ground and crossed my legs. I watched as he stiffly circled me twice before crouching behind me to place his hand between my shoulder blades.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“What?” I shifted to look at him over my shoulder, and he nudged me back into position.
“Tell. Me. How. You. Feel.”
“Repeating it word for word doesn’t change my question,” I bit back. “I’mfine.”
“Are you?” The pressure of his fingers against my spine intensified.
“Yes. Are you all right? You’re acting strange.” My muscles shifted without thought, and I found myself leaning into him. I expected him to force me to straighten my back, to bark out somecondescending remark about my “posture,” but he only continued to work.
“You’re grating as always. I suppose that’s a good sign.” His words lacked their usual sting.
“Rorik, seriously—”
“Do you have any idea...” He swallowed hard enough for me to hear, as if he could somehow bite back the emotion clawing at his words. Emotion that sounded an awful lot like concern. He exhaled forcefully. “Just breathe.Quietly.”
I snorted. “What better way to keep me in line than to take my voice?” All at once I thought of Mavis and her stillness, and I shuddered.
“Your voice is only part of the problem.”
Even though he couldn’t see it, I rolled my eyes. “Yes, well, gods forbid I exist.”
“It is problematic.” Something shifted in his tone as his fingers moved to the knotted muscles along my shoulder blade. “You’re tense.” He tested a few spaces with gentle prods before isolating an errant tendon and digging his thumb deep into my back. I lurched forward at the same time Ywena shot a familiar jolt of electricity through to my extremities.
Pivoting in place, I finally escaped his touch and shot him a glare. “Of course I’m tense. You just told me my existence is problematic. And on top of that, I was justattacked,in case you forgot.”
“As if I could forget.” He let his hand fall away as he raised a brow. “Is that all?”
There was something so nonchalant, so boorish, about his response that all the emotions I’d been suppressing at the sight of him came frothing to the surface. Anger for the way he’d toyed with me to further his agenda. Longing for the way his fingers felt on my skin. Confusion and pain for wanting more, especially when I knew I could seek comfort in Orin’s arms. And fear. Fearthat Rorik could be so lethal, so devastatingly horrific, and still it wasn’t enough to send me running.
“Why is it so hard for you to be nice?” I seethed. He went stock-still as I turned fully and leaned close enough for our breaths to intermingle. “All I’ve done since coming here is try to help, and for what? For you to be a colossal ass every time we meet? It’s any wonder the rest of the family looks down upon you. The only time I’ve ever heard a nice thing out of that damn mouth of yours is when you were drunk.”
He stared at me with scrunched brows, and a flicker of wonder passed through his gaze as his careful veil of feigned indifference slipped away. Pressing his lips together, he studied my face with enough intensity to bring a flush to my cheeks.
Finally,finally,he tipped his head forward as his lips curled into a sinful grin. “You’ve been thinking about my mouth?”
I blinked as the raging emotions inside me stalled. And then I let out a groan as I pulled back and pinched my nose between my forefinger and thumb. “Impossible.”
“Indeed. Now, turn around.” I didn’t fight him as he went back to kneading tiny circles down the length of my spine. Better to look anywhere but at his face. Gods, he was a thorn in my side that somehow wormed itself deeper with each passing day. Still, it was hard to complain when my body couldn’t get enough of his touch. Each aching tendon begged for the release his fingers brought, and I bit back a moan to keep him from gaining any satisfaction from the sound.
The only pain I’d ever intentionally inflict on you is the agony of making you wait to feel the pleasure of release.
Gooseflesh rippled across my skin from head to toe, and while I couldn’t see Rorik’s expression, there was an infinitesimal twitch to his fingers.
“Hit a nerve?” he asked, voice low.
Did he ever. “No. I’m fine.”
