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“Damn,” I murmured to myself.
Physically, my body shape was the same—curvy, but not super curvy—only my skin looked sort of… glowy.
When I got closer to the mirror to see my eyes better, I was startled to see that their usual muddy brown had morphed into a vibrant green color that reminded me of the leaves on so many of those crazy-looking trees in the forest.
My gaze traced my arms and legs, looking for some kind of magical tattoo. Disappointment flooded me when all I found was more glowy skin.
Oh well, I’d survive.
Glancing over at the shower, I hesitated. I’d been on fire for most of the day—literally—and didn’t feel dirty in the slightest. I actually felt really, really good.
And food sounded great, even though I wasn’t very hungry.
Would it be gross to forgo a shower in favor of watching the fae dude who claimed I was his cook for me?
I guessed I could help him, too, if I wanted to be nice.
My teeth caught on my bottom lip while I debated my options.
Ultimately, the smartest choice would’ve been to take a long shower and then feign exhaustion and go to sleep. That would buy me time away from Calian and the other girls, and prevent me from bonding with them further in any way that might make me sad when they inevitably ended up treating me shitty, betraying me, or being taken away.
My self-preservation instincts had my thoughts spiraling into defense mode, preparing for the worst.
But the hope and happiness that had begun to sprout in my chest while I was flying whispered that I should make another choice.
One that I wouldenjoy.
I didn’t want to accept that I was choosing hope, but I found myself yanking the door open anyway. My eyes widened when I found Calian putting the clothes I’d left on the bed away in the closet.
He glanced over his shoulder at me, and my chest squeezed when he gave me a slow, sexy smile.
Panic had me shutting the door again, harder.
Nope.
Fuck off, hope.
Shower it was.
Eleven
Half an hour later,I padded out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel. My body was so relaxed from all the warm water that I couldn’t even bring myself to worry about the man I knew would be somewhere in the room, waiting for me.
And yep, there he was: sprawled across my bed like he owned the damn thing.
He was the one who had picked up the blankets and sheet and everything else from wherever it had been before he gave it to me, so I couldn’t exactly hold it against him. Plus, he looked really fucking delicious draped over the bed like that, which did a damned number on whatever anger I should’ve felt.
My hair hung tangled down my back, water dripping from the ends as I headed to the closet. The bags and everything that had been inside them were put away, and as expected, I found them tucked neatly into the closet along with the rest of my clothes. My gaze dragged over all the pairs of comfortable, fireproof clothing, but lingered the longest on the section that I hadn’t seen yet.
A few pairs of pants (way too long to be my own) and a couple of muscle-tees like the one Calian had been wearing the day we met.
So I could wear my clothes… or his.
So many fucking options.
I didn’t mind that fact as much as I expected to.
The shorts and tank top felt like another layer of skin as I pulled them on. Most of them were in shades of black and gray, which I liked, but I picked out a set that was made of deep crimson fabric. Something about the color reminded me of flying, and I fucking loved flying.
