His sadness reaches in and clutches my heart.
“You’re sad,” I say, my tone hoarse, earnest.
“What?” he asks, as he brushes his fingertips along the inside of my wrist.
“I feel it here.” I touch my chest. “It feels different from my sadness. It’s sharp, and it makes it hard to breathe.” Boldly, I step closer and stare up at him. “Why are you so sad?”
Clouds immerse his eyes. Clouds hiding everything he thinks and feels from me. How I wish I was the sun and could make those clouds disappear.
“Tell me,” I say. “I will not laugh at you.”
“I spent many summers hiding who I was, but in becoming Hector, I have lost you. This…” Hector runs his fingertips against my skin, “…isn’t what I want.”
“Whatdoyou want?” The question chokes out of me.
“Your happiness. Your contentment to be next to me. The ability to trust you.”
I exhale and break eye contact. I cannot give him what he wants. Not when there is so much at stake.
Over the last few days, my path hasn’t shifted. I still need to escape before he takes me to the cave of reflection. There is no way I can give his people magic. They would destroy Tarrobane just like they tried to do before the gods cursed their tribe.
“You feel my sadness as much as I feel your anxiousness to leave,” he says, his words forthright.
“Because of the tattoo?” The question escapes in a breathless whisper.
“Yes.” He stares down at the tattoo etched into his left wrist. “It makes us more aware of what each other is feeling.”
I step back, needing distance. The more I stand here, the more I want to run. At the same time, a force pulls me toward him.
It has to be the tattoo. Nothing else can explain why I want to run from himandstay here and kiss him.
Hades, Sol!
Don’t think about kissing him again.
Needing a change of subject, I nod toward the basin. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” he says as he returns to his desk.
Elation thrums through me as I walk to the washing stand and pour clean water into the terracotta basin. It has been too long since I have had the pleasure of such luxuries. Maybe it’s silly to enjoy this so much, but after days of not having it, it makes me more thankful for it.
I add chamomile and lavender and inhale, appreciating the calming mixture. From the nearby shelf, I grab a cloth and dip it into the water. Goosebumps form on my skin as I wash, running the rag along my arms, my neck, my face.
When I finish, I turn to Hector. He still sits at the desk flipping through the book. He pauses when he notices my stare and nods toward the leather satchel on the table.
“I borrowed a change of clothes and a nightdress from Everly.”
“Oh.” I smile. “Thank you.”
I move to the table and remove the nightdress from the satchel. If I’m going to change into something clean, there’s no reason I cannot wash the rest of my body.
So, I do precisely that. I scrub every inch of my skin with the herb-infused water. I even forget about the man sitting at his desk. That is...until I turn around.
His eyes rove over my exposed skin, examining my curves, as if he owns them. My heart races as his stare ignites a fever in my veins.
“Hector.” Needing the distraction, I snap a drying cloth from the shelf.
He jerks his gaze back to his reading.
