The pinching he did earlier was a shock in itself, but even so, that was a controlled punishment. A pointed reminder to stay in line, like a master yanking on a leashed collar, and very in-line with his usual temper.
But this is different. This was Midas losing control in a wave of anger, and he prides himself on his control.
Stunned silence stains the room in a void of dark shadows as I take in what just happened. The roaring creature inside of me takes it all in too, her beak bared to flash a row of razor-sharp teeth.
There seems to be a crashing sea of fury rising up, and my anger relishes in it, ready to swim beneath its depths. My entire body trembles with the force to hold her back. I can feel those waters closing in on me, a whirlpool ready to pull me under.
That love-stained girl inside of me is gone. The one whose heart was broken with the pieces used to pin her up like a bug to a board. She was burned down with the force of his palm. Her ashes are now nothing but soil to sprout the stems of the wickedness that seems to suddenly bloom brighter.
I take a fortifying inhale and turn back to look at Midas. At the man whose greed has so ruined him that he doesn’t even realize it. He’s swam out so far in a gilded sea and doesn’t even see it’s drowning him.
I hate him. I hate him so much that I know the truth gleams from my eyes.
A pregnant pause billows between us like a roiling cloud.
Midas’s eyes are wide, face pale as he looks at me in shock. Abruptly, his breath shatters the air. “Shit…”
Hands come up to my face, and his palm cups my jaw, thumbs stroking down my throbbing cheek. “Precious…I…I didn’t mean that. I was angry. I didn’t… Shit!”
Anguish bleeds through his tone, and my stomach tightens at the thundering noise. I try to jerk out of his hold, but his grip tightens, like he’s afraid to let me go. Afraid I’ll disappear into thin air.
That’s exactly what I intend to do.
He tips my head up, forcing me to look at him. “You make me so crazy, Auren.” I nearly scoff. Those are words to lay fault at my feet. “I’m not used to you behaving this way, but that was wrong of me. I lost my temper, but you know how much I love you. How much I need you.”
His touch gentles on my face, thumb wiping away the tear tracks like he wants to erase my every emotion, control everything I do, everything I feel. He wants to wipe me clean like a slate.
I almost feel sorry for him. I feel sorry for me too, that this is how we’ve ended up. However, once I’m gone, I can start over. I can have a life. But him…
By losing me, he loses everything.
“This is getting out of hand,” he says, tone quiet, the last of his vitriol expended and soaked up by my face. “Let’s go to bed. Let me take care of you. Let me show you how much I love you.”
I blink, incredulous horror spiking my pulse as I realize what he’s implying. Does he actually believe I’m going to have sex with him right now?
He either doesn’t see the look on my face, or he’s sure he can turn this around by physically distracting me, because the next thing I know, his mouth is descending, ready to capture mine for a kiss.
My abated anger rushes back like a held-back tide.
As fast as it takes to blink, my ribbons are up, curving around my front like a cocoon of ribs. With a powerful push, they shove him back, and Midas goes stumbling, nearly landing on his ass.
He stares at me with wide-eyed shock, eyes glancing warily at the ribbons poised at my sides, held up in the air with cocked ends. All that’s missing from their stance are fangs dripping with venom and a rattle in their tails.
“Don’t touch me.” My voice singes, landing against his ear and making him twitch with the burn.
Midas recovers by straightening himself, shifting on his feet warily. “You’re worked up,” he says placatingly, and although he’s trying to sound calm, to seem sure of himself, there’s a tremor in his hands as he tugs down his golden tunic, fingers running over the buttons. “It’s understandable.”
I say nothing. I’m too busy breathing shallowly through my nose while my ribbons strain at my back, tugging against my muscles like they want to rip from my skin and tackle the bastard.
“You know I love you, Auren,” he says quietly, shoulders slumping down in a rare show of remorse. “You’re the most precious thing to me in the world, but I let my temper get the better of me. You embarrassed me at the table in front of the queen, and we need her alliance,” he says, as if I care. “And I don’t like the way the commander thinks he’s entitled to touch you without my permission. Make sure it doesn’t happen again, and just…behave, alright? I don’t want this constant tension between us.” It’s nearly a plea, as if I’m causing him strife.