His jaw tightened, just barely. "A walk."
I nodded, walking in closer, deliberately sliding onto the bed beside him. My fingers sketched a slow line along his arm. "I needed air, Makros. I didn't think you'd mind."
A pause. Then his lips twisted up into something that was almost a smirk. "I don't mind."
His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my chin, tugging my face up to his. "As long as you remember where you belong."
I smiled at him, relaxing my muscles, keeping my smile soft.
"Always," I breathed.
Makros regarded me for another moment, then released me just as abruptly.
"Come here," he ordered.
I obeyed. I always obeyed to give him the illusion of submission.
By morning, I had my answer.
Makros was angry.
I stayed in the corner of his office as he banged his hand on his desk, his jaw set so hard that I wondered if his teeth would shatter.
"No, no, no, Jill wouldn't have deceived me," he growled. "I knew he was telling the truth when my knife was stuck in him—how in the hell did Dimitri manage to escape?"
No one answered. Not Dragon. Not even Nicolai, who was standing beside me, arms crossed.
I forced myself to be expressionless. I knew absolutely how.
Because I had saved him.
I stepped closer, putting a hand on Makros's shoulder. "You'll catch him. You always do."
His muscles were tense under my hand.
He turned slowly to me, eyes dark with something I couldn't quite pinpoint.
Then his lips curled up into a smile.
"Do I?"
The question was too soft. Maybe I'd overacted my role.
My pulse beat faster, but I kept a steady voice. "Always."
His smirk deepened, but his grip on my wrist became a hold. "You once said something to me, Leila."
I took a slow breath.
"You said submission is an illusion."
My stomach tightened.
Makros tilted his head to the side. "So tell me... is your submission to me real, or is it an illusion?"
I smiled, brushing my fingers against his jaw. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
He let out a menacing chuckle, his hand moving up my throat. "Careful, little redhead."
