Page 147 of Winter Gods & Serpents

“Did he not have a choice?”

He looked up to me. “Did you have a choice?”

“But I was created, it was my purpose.”

“In my father's head, so was Mal. Someone living with a purpose. The curse of those born mighty.”

“And you…did he do anything to you?”

He smiled, so very softly. “He didn’t have to, I obeyed.”

“To all that?” The words didn’t hide my shock.

He nodded. “And more.”

“Are you not angry at him? Your father?”

“Once, perhaps. Maybe I still am. I just chose not to acknowledge it, because even as a half-arsed Empath I know resentment is one heavy emotion to bear.” He looked up and threw me a joshing wink. “Back me up, you would know better.”

I pushed my foot to his shoulder almost knocking him back to the ground and he chuckled silently.

He tickled my sole making me flinch. “Good to know some feel returned to your body.” His hand moved over my foot and then up my calf and I withheld a gasp at the lightness of his touch. His knuckles brushed the inside of my leg almost up my thigh. He stopped moving and I stopped breathing. It was too quiet, enough to hear my banging heartbeat flutter around the room. “Sometimes I find it hard to believe that there is actually a human under this skin.”

Sometimes even I found that hard to believe. “Even monsters bleed and hurt.”

He frowned at my words. “You are no monster, Snow.”

“So many conflictions you have to solve, Adriatian. Make up your mind, am I or am I not?” I laid back in bed, staring at the wide blank ceiling. “One minute you lash me with a whip, then you smooth a hand over my welts to lessen the pain. If you want to hurt me just do it, no need for the aftercare.”

“You need a bit of truth to put you to place, but then I realize the others choose to avoid the truth because it hurts you. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

On que at such revelation I rose from where I laid, frowning along my thoughts. “Why the sweet words?”

“What do you want to hear from me Snow, tell me?”

“That you are scared of me, terrified, enough that you wish to get in my good graces.”

He smiled, his eyes did too, and it made my skin prickle. I reached for a pillow and smacked him with it. “Don’t smile, you fool.”

“I am terrified of you woman.”

“Good. Great. Brilliant,” I exclaimed, raising my hands to the ceiling.

“Terrified of when you look at me like that.” He gently slapped my soles making me flinch in surprise. “Next time, shoes then run,” he said pointing to me before leaving.

My head turned examining the room left and right, as if my head imagined all of it. He left me there blinking myself to confusion and I muttered about a thousand curses, and threw about another thousand vulgar hand gestures behind the closed doors.

I blinked rapidly. How did I look at him?

“Pen,” I shouted, chucking the pillow meters away and she popped from the bathing chambers. “How am I looking at you?” Did I have a particular look I gave people? Like a stinky eye? Were my expressions that telling?

She stood stupefied of thought. “Are you…hungry?”

I paced rapidly toward her, bringing my face close to hers. “Yes, that too, but anything that could perhaps…terrify you?” I shifted my eyes around attempting to recreate the look I’d given him.

“You, uhm, are terrifying when you’re hungry,” she added, cautiously moving away from me.

What had he meant? I stood afront the large dresser mirror for the comfort of an answer, yet I faced an uncomfortable reflection, one that had grown darker and larger, no longer sombre and contained, one leaking out of control.