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Kolis swallowed. “Please…” He cleared his throat. “Please say something.”
“A bath,” I said, my voice strangely steady. “I would like a bath.”
I sat in the tub, my knees tucked to my chest. The hot water the Chosen had brought in mere minutes after Kolis left the chamber had long since cooled.
I didn’t know how long I’d sat here. Minutes? Hours? All I knew was that I had no fear when it came to bathing. The moment Callum and the Chosen left the chamber, I’d stripped off the disgusting gown and all but dove in. The horror of the incident that had occurred beyond the privacy screen I now stared at had replaced that fear.
There were so many more things to dread now.
Things every woman worried about, whether mortal or god. Things I knew Kolis was capable of the moment I learned what had been done to Sotoria. Things I knew I would have to face. From the moment I’d told him I was Sotoria, I’d known I wouldn’t be like his other favorites. He wouldn’t be content only observing. I knew those things would happen. It was one of the reasons I’d tried to escape and screamed fuck the greater good.
But from the moment I decided to use his love for Sotoria to my advantage, I’d known what would happen. And knew I might even have to initiate it.
I’d told myself I was ready. That I could do it. I’d convinced myself. I’d known this could happen. But the foolish, naïve shock still lingered. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t. Or maybe I wouldn’t. Because I’d prepared for the likelihood that I’d have to seduce Kolis to gain his trust and Ash’s freedom. And while it wasn’t like I was okay with that, I at least had some semblance of control.
I’d had no control a bit ago.
None.
And I’d had no choice.
I really hadn’t. Because choosing not to risk Ash or my physical well-being was not a fucking choice. I had been wrong earlier. Holland had been wrong. Choices didn’t always exist. Not real ones.
Reaching up, I tentatively touched the bite on my neck and winced. He could’ve at least closed the wound. Dropping my hand, I dug my chin into my knees, the muscles in my body tense despite having soaked in hot water. Yet I felt numb. Detached. I closed my eyes.
I was lucky. This time. It could’ve been worse than him getting off while he fed. It could’ve gone further than that.
I didn’t feel lucky, though.
I felt disgusted. Enraged. Desperate. Shamed. And angry at myself for even feeling that because I knew better. I felt weak. And I wasn’t that. With or without the embers, I was fucking tough. Physically. Mentally. I’d cracked a little before, but I was not weak. Still, I felt that way. I felt everything as I sat in the tepid water.
But at the same time, I felt absolutely nothing.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Shortly after breakfast was served, the silver hawk flew in through the narrow window, arcing gracefully as it glided past the chandelier.
Leaving my glass on the table, I took a step back. I assumed it was Attes, but Kolis could take the form of a hawk, too.
Staying quiet, I watched the hawk tuck its wings in close, careful not to brush the bars as it flew between them. The feathered creature circled near the cluster of diamonds and then dove. At the same moment, starlight swallowed the hawk, and the embers hummed. I relaxed when I caught sight of brownish-blond hair.
Attes stood before me. “Meyaah Liessa.” He folded an arm over his chest and bowed.
I arched a brow at the greeting. “That’s not necessary.”
“But it is.” He straightened. “You are the—”
“I know. Whatever. You’re naked.” I paused. “Again.”
A half-grin appeared, softening the scar on his face with the faint appearance of a dimple. I was willing to bet the combination of the three bewitched many.
As I reached for a pitcher, he summoned clothing. “I’m jealous of that talent,” I admitted. “I would manifest actual clothes.”
“I could comment on that,” he drawled. “However, your husband would likely cut out my tongue and eyes and feed them to Setti.”
Your husband. A pang lit up my chest. Two words I’d never thought would affect me so. Two words I’d never thought would apply to me.
Clearing my throat, I lifted the pitcher. “Would you like a drink?”
