Page 48

“You do,” Kiam said as we walked out.

Katarina paled. “I can’t help with that.” She held her hands up. “I can’t grip pencils or anything.”

Gently, I took her wrists. “I don’t understand how these aren’t healed yet. Shouldn’t this be better by now?”

“Cursed,” someone replied.

Kalix had walked in and I smothered a sigh. My room was turning into Grand Central Station. Plus, it was weird. I couldn’t remember if I’d ever seen him in here.

“Yeah well, uncurse her. This isn’t right.”

Kalix folded his arms. “Everyone is aware of your opinion.”

Oh, yeah. That’s right. My screaming at Lukas. Was nothing private?

“Kiam, can you help her? Aren’t you some, like, master at magic or something?”

Katarina nudged me, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. It has healed, some.”

“Sit down,” Kiam ordered me, pointing at a small stool.

I did, and he strode over to the dresser and returned with a makeup palette. “Really? You look like a mime,” Katarina scoffed.

Kalix chuckled and then said, “Are you sure you want to do that?”

I eyed the tall, darker skinned man. “I need to fix my reputation, I guess. Might as well look my best doing it.”

“If you were my woman, I would have sewn your lips shut with twenty-four-gauge wire.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

He stared down at me, unmoving, before he said, “I have discriminating taste.”

Okay.

Kiam was bent over in front of me, holding an eyeshadow brush. “Hold still. Ignore Kalix or you’ll end up looking like a mime.” I caught the glance he flicked at Katarina.

She rolled her eyes and perched on the end of the sofa, watching the professional begin to paint my face.

“Stop breathing,” he snapped.

My lips separated in disbelief, and he glared at me. I closed them and he continued. My eyelid twitched, tickled from his ministrations while my mind raced over the break in his usual stoicism. I ached to ask him what was wrong and I must have moved again because he stopped.

Kalix swayed into my line of vision. “I rest my case.” His cloak swooped around his legs, and he strode away.

“Cassia,” Kiam caught my attention. “This is impossible when you keep moving.”

“Annalise is waiting. She is not a patient woman.” Kalix’s voice reached us.

“Fuck it,” Kiam muttered and grabbed my chin.

Surprised, I froze, and he continued working. The sensation of his fingertips against my skin felt wrong. It was as if I’d plunged my hand into a gelatinous substance by accident; it was that jarring.

I didn’t have to worry about it for long because suddenly, he was ripped away from me. The brush fell to the floor with a clatter and I saw my maid, her head tilted all the way back. I followed her gaze, and there was Kiam, tacked to the ceiling.

A shadow fell over me, blocking the view.

“Another man touched you,” Lukas growled, wiping his hand over my face.