His silence was answer enough.
She clucked her tongue, hating the ashy taste in her mouth. He still thought so little of her and her love for him. When she had left the palace and betrayed him, it was for her own freedom. But out here while he was injured, her priority was him. She wouldn’t run when he needed her. “You don’t need to worry; I’m not leaving.”
“I’m not worrying.”
Of course he wasn’t. She gathered the soapy bubbles on the surface of the water and placed them around her chest, a small sliver of modesty. “You can leave now.”
“I don’t think so.” He leaned against the wall and slid down it. He had changed into different clothes; no longer was he garbed in his usual leathers and armor. He now wore someone’s old clothes; a tunic that was too short, pants that were too tight. They didn’t suit him, but she doubted it would be easy to find used clothes for a man of his size.
“I don’t want you to watch me bathe,” she said.
“Why not? It’ll be like the old days.”
Old days. As if he had been guarding her for years and not a few weeks ago. “You can go,” she said, tighter this time, on the verge of breaking into a cry. For some reason, she didn’t want him to see her so vulnerable. Not after he was the cause.
He stared at her levelly. His blue eyes shone like cold gems. Beautiful, bright, and soulless. It was another barrier between them, the fact that he shuttered himself from her. She had seen the life play in his eyes before—moments ago, when they were intimate—but now he was back to being closed off.
Finally, he said quietly, “You’re in pain.”
“No, I’m not.” She used more soap over her arms, something to distract herself. “You were the only one who was injured. I only had bruises, which faded after a few days.”
That wasn’t what he was talking about, and she knew it. She didn’t like the reminder that she wasn’t privy to his emotions, and yet he was to hers. It wasn’t fair.
“I hurt you,” he said quietly.
He did, but she didn’t want to admit it. “Nikator, leave me.”
“Ihurtyou. My words cut deep.” He canted his head and watched her with the look of a feral beast. For a split second, she could feel the slightest simmering of rage through the bond.So slight, she almost missed it. It seared her chest, and she wondered who it was directed at.
Her? Or himself?
“Let me help.” He suddenly towered over her by the tub, then knelt until he was at her level, his forearms resting on the rim of the tub. He was too close. He eased the soap out of her hands and slowly began lathering it against her back, rubbing up and down.
She sighed and closed her eyes, allowing the small comfort. His touch this time wasn’t full of lust and desire, but a clinical kind of care. And yet it stoked a heat in her belly all the same.
She hated how she reacted to him.
“Biyu, I—” He clamped his mouth shut, throat bobbing as he swallowed. The words were on the verge of his lips—an apology, maybe—but nothing else passed through. He gritted his teeth together, his hands dipping into the water and remaining there. He simply stared at her.
Then, he reached for a lock of her hair floating on the surface of the water and wound it around his finger distractedly. His eyes softened.
“You’re too beautiful for me.”
Tears stung her eyes at the admission. “Then why do you want to push me away so much?”
“Because—” He clenched his jaw and averted his gaze. The muscles along his neck feathered and strained, like he didn’t want to speak any more, but something compelled him to. Each word came out forcefully, tensely. “You’re not meant for someone like me.”
“What do you mean?”
His fingers stirred the bath water absently; his eyebrows furrowed together, lips sealed shut. A thousand words seemed to pass between them. Her heart tightened like a vise and she could hear her own insecurities. About how she wasn’t smart enough,pretty enough, or decisive enough. How she was too anxious, too dithering, too useless when it mattered. Did he similarly think those things about himself? That he wasn’t good enough for her?
Just the thought itself was unfathomable. He was confident, powerful, intelligent, fun,perfectin every way.
“Nikator, what do you mean by that?” She wrapped her hand around his fingers. When he still didn’t speak, she brought his hand up to her cheek and placed it there, leaning against his palm. “Please, what do you meansomeone like you?”
He pulled back, letting her hand fall back into the water. Suddenly, he was closed off once more. “Maybe it’s best if we have this conversation while you’re dressed.”
She blinked, staring down at her bare body. The bubbles had mostly dissolved, but she didn’t see why it mattered too much. He had seen it all before, and yet his gaze roamed over her body hungrily, as if he hadn’t just caressed that body an hour prior. As if he hadn’t trailed his hands over every inch of her. Darkness swirled in those rich sapphire blue eyes. He ripped his attention away almost forcibly, a shuddered breath releasing from him in a hiss.
