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She bit down on her lip to smother her cry from the sting between her legs. The sudden invasion stiffened her body against him, around him.
All her confidence and grace she called on previously drained away as her brain processed they were joined—during a day of her fertility.
Solaris’s mouth settled beside her ear; his breath uneven as his thrusts quickened.
She wept silently with her face smothered in the crevice of his shoulder. A tremor wracked through him, and his weight grew languorous against her. Warm fluid oozed down the inside of her thigh as her legs shook.
She held herself up by her elbows on the bookshelf. He removed himself from her and stepped away to give her space.
Naia glanced into the shadows behind Solaris. Mira was gone.
With that knowledge, Naia’s knees gave way, and she curled in on herself, her forehead pressed onto the cool floor.
“I don’t want a child,” it left her in a sob.
Solaris kneeled. He did not offer a soothing hand on her back or try to lift her into a hug. “I do not wish for a child either. Not like this.”
The gentleness of his voice was a blazing wind to the inferno of her emotions, heightening her rage.
She lifted her head sharply to look at him through her damp eyelashes. Red warped her vision. “Then why don’t you ever say anything? You are mute! Always!”
She got onto her feet, ignoring the raw ache between her legs. He stood along with her, and she shoved him into the bookcase. “You do what they ask of you! Right or wrong, it does not matter! Why don’t you ever speak up?”
His hands fisted, pulling the muscles down his arms taut, and he kept his face positioned at an angle, as if he tried to physically deflect her verbal attack.
The insides of her thighs rubbed together as she backed away, her skin sticky and a reminder of how a child could be forming in her womb at that moment.
The library walls felt as if they were collapsing and crashing in on her. Her breath grew ragged, and she ran her hands through her hair, shaking her head in denial.
“I will not become pregnant. I refuse.”
She would mix tonics, seek an herbalist, or find somewhere to purchase the tea she overheard the servants speaking about.
“I will do whatever it is you ask,” Solaris’s voice was hard, but Naia could hear the quivering beneath it. “But you and I both know if you do those things, Mira will find out and her punishment will be crueler than anything she has ever done to you.”
He was right, and she hated the glaring defeat she felt because of it—like a cornered animal, trapped with nowhere to run to.
“Don’t pretend as if you care!” Centuries of spite foamed in her mouth as she snapped at him. “We are gods, remember? No matter how she punishes me, I cannot die.”
Before he had time to react to his own words spit back in his face, Naia stormed out of the library.
High Goddess of Fate, she prayed, please do not force this upon me.
14
HOW IT BEGAN
Solaris departed Kaimana after staying for the five days of Naia’s fertility.
She could not bring herself to leave her room. Her breakfast sat untouched on the table near the window, as the unlit candles in the chandelier created a somber ambiance.
With a grim determination, she sat at the table, her eyes straining to see beyond the glass, desperately seeking a lifeline. Fat land covered in fine sand, the green thicket of the jungle adding a touch of wild beauty, while the rolling tide streamed overhead, creating a dynamic and enchanting scene. Amidst everything, she found satisfaction in the rhythmic raindrops and sporadic thunder. A solemnity to match her mood.
A soft knock sounded on her door.
The lack of response hung in the air for a beat before the door cracked open, and her father stepped in wearing a moss-green colored robe, baby’s breath adding a touch of delicacy to his dark hair.
She wasn’t in the mood for visitors—including him. “Why are you here, Father?”
