Page 133 of The Witch's Pet


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After the bath, as I’m drying off, waiting for the mirror to dress me a different scene unfolds in the tub behind me. My naked body, not standing in front of me but instead legs splayed out over the side of the tub. Someone kneeling before me, in between my spread thighs. There’s no denying who with the familiar markings covering the muscles working in his back. His fingers are grasped so tightly around me they indent my skin. His head bobs, and the me in the mirror kicks her head back.

I gasp, taking several paces back. Behind me is merely an empty tub. Completely normal. By the time I turn back the scene in the mirror is gone.

I practically sprint out of the bathroom, not waiting around for the mirror to dress me. No, I’ll dress myself from now on. Of all things it could’ve showed me…it showed me…that?

What was that?Is it reflecting my own desires back to me? Showing me what I want to see? The scene taunts me, replaying over and over again in my mind until I find myself back in his bed, door locked, body safely hidden under the blankets, ears perked as I dig that book out from under the mattress. Because I need to get this out of my system, and I’m definitely not going to think of what the mirror showed me or the events of last night as I…no, I need different material.

I’m flipping through the colorfully illustrated pages, trying not to think about Sitri doing the exact same thing when a small ripped piece of paper falls out onto my lap. In terse, neat print, it readsEnjoying yourself?

I stare at those two words for the longest moment, the implication of them. We only discussed this book last night, and sometime between now and then, he’s managed to sneak this piece of paper into this book. Some time when I was sleeping gloriously half-naked in his bed.

I go to carefully stash the paper back into the book when it suddenly bursts into flames. Within seconds, it’s only a few crumbles of ash.

I jump out of the bed and let out a hiss. It’s a trap! Now he’ll know I went digging this book out from under his mattress. Not only had I dug it out, but so soon after we discussed it.

Panic floods my veins. Maybe I can replicate his stupid note, and he’ll never know. I rummage through his desk and pull out the sketchbook, flipping to the empty pages in the back. There it is. The page of paper with a torn edge he’s used to scrawl the note on. Across it is another drawing of me. This time, I’m grinning as though in mid-laugh.You can keep this onescrawled across the bottom.

I slam the book shut and stuff it back in the drawer. Not only had he scrawled a note--he sketched an entire picture while I slept half naked in his bed.

I doubt any attempt I make to replicate the note will be a success. In a moment I don’t consider exactly rational, I carry the pornographic book out to the living room and toss it into the fireplace. Serves him right. However it remains completely unscathed amidst the glimmering flames.

“God dammit!” Flames lick at my fingers as I scoop it out but the book isn’t even warm to the touch. I try the tub next, setting the whole thing under the spout. The water merely trickles over the side as if covered by a protective shield. God. Did he know I would try to destroy this? And, took measures to prevent it?

I stuff the book back under his mattress and spend the rest of the morning on the balcony, angrily staring off into the kingdom below, contemplating how in the hell I’m going to recover my dignity from the last twenty-four hours.

That’s where Sitri finds me hours later, hair still unfixed because I’d been unwilling to brave the mirror again.

“There you are,” he says with an audible sigh of relief. I only grunt in response. “Well, come on, then.”

I can’t even look at him as we walk to the kitchens, though I can feel him scrutinizing me out of the corner of his eye. When I do finally brave a glimpse, I catch a glint of amusement.

Vera, sensing my foul mood, quickly offers me a glass of wine to soften me up. She pesters me until I finally grunt out an answer. “I don’t know why he…”

“He what?”

“You know…torments me. You’ve seen how he is…he’s always trying to provoke me or embarrass me.”

“You are so oblivious. He’s not tormenting you he’sflirtingwith you.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m a punishment to him,” I mumble out stubbornly. Deep down I know that she’s right. I just can’t admit it to myself. Too afraid of the consequences of speaking it into truth.

She rolls her eyes. “He said that?”

“Yes.”

“And, how long has it been since he’s said that? I’m sure you weren’t exactly thrilled to be married to him, either. You ever think he’s changed his mind a bit since you first got here? He’s practically shouting it, Pandora.”

My face colors. “I don’t know. It’s not like he’s tried to…you know, do anything and he’s had plenty of opportunity.”

She snorts. “Pandora, he probably feels like he can’t. I mean, you were forced to marry him and now he has to keep you locked away in his chambers just to keep you alive. You’re probably going to have to be the one to make the first move here.”

“Well, what exactly am I supposed to do with that?”

“Well…you do like him, don’t you?”

I shrink in my stool. “I don’t know. I mean, how am I supposed to know…it’s not like I’ve ever known any other men…” Her appraisal is skeptical. “Maybe!” I spit out.

She squeals, and I smack at her hands. “Stop it,” I hiss. “That’s part of the problem.”