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He was fully clothed, and so was I.
Scalding humiliation coats every nerve, every cell in my body as I realize that Kha’zeth was telling the truth. He didn’t touch me last night, save for wrapping an arm around my waist. I bury my face in my hands, vague memories of having my hair stroked and a warm body holding me coming flooding back.
I don’t know why he came into my room last night, or why he fell asleep in my bed, but he didn’t hurt me- he comforted me.
He watched over me and kept me safe.
I groan, tempted to rip my own hair out with embarrassment. I’ve made an absolute fool of myself and accused him of being a monster when he’s done nothing wrong. I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him after this.
The full weight of my realization only bears down on me further as I think back to my time here, in Kha’zeth’s home. He’s never said a foul word to me, never made any move to hurt me- he’s fed me, and clothed me, and given me a type of privacy and respect I’ve never experienced before.
He even chased his own family away from me when he realized I was overwhelmed, and asked me about my life, about Toklys, and held me when I cried.
I’ve never felt more ashamed of myself in my life. I eventually drag myself out of the bath, drying myself off and putting on another of the simpler dresses Kha’zeth gave me, a silky, rust-colored dress that barely reaches the floor.
Even the dresses he’s bought me are modest, I think to my chagrin as I run a brush through my hair. I don’t know how I could possibly make this right, but I guess I can start with an apology.
True to his word, Kha’zeth had food delivered to my room, a wide array of fruits and pastries on a tray beside my bed. My shame only deepens at the sight of it, knowing he made that promise to me when I was screaming at him to leave.
A part of me wants nothing more than to hide in my bed all day, eating the food Kha’zeth sends up and pretending that nothing is amiss, but I can’t bring myself to ignore what’s right.
Steeling my nerves, I head downstairs to find Kha’zeth and offer him the apology he deserves.
I only hope he’ll accept it.
76
KHA’ZETH
Magic crackles along my skin as I stomp out of the room, confused. This is my home, these are my walls, and yet I feel lost as I stare at Natalie’s closed bedroom door. I linger in front of it, but she refuses to open the door no matter what I say.
Eventually I give up.
Her sobs are so loud they can be heard at the end of the hall, where I pause and grip my horns in abject frustration.
I did nothing!
By the gods, this woman is infuriating. She’s about as trusting as a razorfiend, and her emotions change as quickly as the electric storms that roar above us. One moment she’s so tender-hearted that she cries over a stranger’s death and clings to me for comfort, and the next, she’s accusing me of manipulating her. Of using her.
I still can’t believe I fell asleep in her bed. For a moment, it felt like I might belong next to her. She’d smiled in her sleep, and something had tugged in my chest. I couldn’t bear to leave her. Not yet. And then my eyelids grew heavy, watching her dream, then…
For a moment, it had been peaceful, holding her in my arms as we woke. I hadn’t known I could sleep so well.
“Enough,” I tell myself.
Enough. If she’s going to be as capricious as the storms above, then she can have her bed all to herself. I’m done trying to win her over with pleasantries and gentle words. If any of my fellow demons could see me now, I can only imagine how they’d sneer at the sniveling creature I’ve become, attempting to win a human’s trust over my duties.
For a dark moment, I consider taking her by force. If she’s going to accuse me of such a thing, why not?
It’s what any other demon would do in my position.
But the mere thought of her terrified screams twists my stomach, and bile burns in my throat. No, I can’t be the one to cause her pain. It’s been difficult enough seeing her cry over others. It tears at me like a fresh wound. Whatever she might think of me and my kind, hurting her like that is not something I could stomach.
I can see why the Prince failed.
What a mockery the court had made of him. Not overtly, of course. No one could survive that. But in secret coves, in whispers. Even I had thought him something of a farce after his elopement with the human from the arena.
I grit my teeth until my sharp canines threaten to slice through my gums, and the pain helps clear my mind. It’s morning, and I have other duties.
