All I could do was stare at Kolis. Part of me wondered if I was still sleeping or if the guard who’d rendered me unconscious had caused some sort of damage to my mind. There had to be a reason Kolis sincerely appeared to believe what he said. Unless he was simply insane.
Which was likely.
But at least he wasn’t referring to Cor Palace as my home anymore.
“You slept deeply,” Kolis stated after a moment. “As if you were at peace.”
I was at peace. I’d dreamt of my lake and the silver wolf—wait. “How…？” I cleared my throat. “How long have you been watching me?”
“Long enough,” he answered.
Disgust churned through me. “Do you have any idea how extraordinarily disturbing it is to know that you were watching me sleep?”
Warm light glanced off an arched cheek as his head tilted. “It bothers you?”
“Of fucking course it does,” I snapped.
“Your language.” His lips thinned. “It is far more uncivilized than I remember.”
“And watching someone as they sleep is civilized?” I shot back.
A shadow seemed to fall over the false King, darkening the very air around him. His expression hardened, his jaw clenched, and a cold, steely look settled in his eyes.
Kolis shot forward, slamming his hands on the divan beside my legs, making me jump. He smirked as he leaned in, and boy did the Primal know how to give a cruel smile. It was a cold, brutal twist of such a lovely mouth and face. I forced myself to be still as he invaded my space, fighting the desire to kick his head back.
Kolis halted, inhaling deeply.
A prickly sensation rushed across my skin. “Are you…are you smelling me?”
“You smell of…” His nose brushed my temple, sending a chill of revulsion through me. He inhaled again, and my pulse raced. “You smell of damp soil.”
Did I? All I could pick up was the stale-sweet lilac stench. My fingers curled into the cushion. But if he really smelled damp soil, it didn’t make any sense. That was what my lake smelled like, and I hadn’t gone past the breezeway.
Seconds ticked by as Kolis studied me with an unsettling, unblinking stare. Still, by the time he blinked, my fingers ached from how tightly I gripped the edge of the divan.
“I want to apologize to you,” he said in a strained sort of way as his stare moved to my mouth and jaw. “For striking you. I am truly sorry. I did not intend to do that.”
His apology lingered in the silence like a noxious, choking cloud as I eyed him. He sounded genuine, but so had my stepbrother Tavius on the rare occasions his father called him to the carpet on some inexcusable, wretched act he’d committed. So had the parents of the beaten children the Ladies of Mercy rescued. I’d seen enough abuse to know there were two types of those who hurt others: ones who felt remorse for their actions, and those who simply did not. I thought I knew which category Kolis fell into, but in the end, it rarely mattered if the apology and remorse were genuine or not because nothing justified the violence, and the abuser almost never changed.
Kolis could take his apology and choke on it, but I had enough common sense to keep that to myself. At least for the moment.
Kolis stayed where he was for several more seconds, then rose to his towering height. A ragged breath left me as a little of the painful tension in my legs and back eased.
“You’re even more filthy than last we spoke,” he stated. “When Callum returns, you will do as he requests, and you will not attempt to harm him.”
Slowly, I lifted my head and looked up, my eyes moving over his large hands and arms, the golden band, and—my gaze darted back to it. I frowned. The cuff had looked white for a moment.
“Are you listening to me?” he snapped.
Blinking, I refocused on him and nodded.
“Then do you understand?”
“That’s…that’s it?” I placed my feet on the floor. “I tried to escape, and that is all you have to say?”
A faint, bemused smile appeared. “Should I say more? Should I be angry with you?”
“Uh, I would assume so.”
“I am displeased, so’lis,” he said, causing a shudder from within. “But I expected nothing less from you.”
“Is that so?” I murmured, not trusting his seemingly ambivalent response.
“You’ve tried to escape me many times before.” His stare sharpened on me. “That is, if you are who you claim to be.”
Unease blossomed as I swallowed dryly. Kolis believing that Sotoria and I were one and the same was the only thing keeping me alive. “I…I don’t remember any of that,” I admitted, knowing that telling the truth whenever possible made the lies more believable.
“Is that so?” he parroted what I’d said.
I nodded.
“Then you don’t remember what happens when you displease me,” he said.
The back of my neck tightened as I held his stare. “No, but I’m sure I can guess.”
Kolis laughed softly. “No, you cannot.”
Ice hit my chest, and I shivered.
“I hope you do not rediscover that knowledge,” he added, his stare moving over me.
“I don’t need to rediscover it to know,” I bit out. “I know what happens to those who fall out of favor with you. To others who’ve been your guests.”
I saw small twitches in his jaw muscles and above his eyes as he stared down at me. “You speak of others I not only provided for, lavishing them with the finest silks and the richest wines and foods, but also protected without ever expecting a single thing from them other than companionship?”
I choked on a rage-filled breath. Did he really think keeping someone in a cage could ever be considered anything but keeping them a prisoner? “Were you protecting them once you grew tired of them and tossed them aside, allowing anyone to do anything to them? To assault and abuse them. To kill—”
Kolis snapped forward, bringing his face to within inches of mine. It took everything in me not to react. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His flesh began to thin as his chest rose with a deep breath. He slowly straightened. “But I know who has been talking to you. Aios.”
I said nothing as I held his stare.
“Did she tell you why I grew tired of them? Why they were tossed aside? I’m sure she didn’t. Each and every one of them was ungrateful. No matter what I gave them. No matter what I did. They were either morose or conniving, believing their lives were better without what I could provide.” His chin lifted. “All I did was allow them to discover how false that belief was.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing—justification for not only kidnapping but also his role in their demise. And his tone told me he truly believed he’d done nothing wrong.
Kolis eyed me. “I can sense it.”
“What?” I asked, wondering if my rage was so palpable it had forced him to develop an ability similar to Ash’s.
“The essence in you.” Shimmery gold pressed against the flesh of his throat. “The embers. They are even more powerful than before.” His chin lowered. “That shouldn’t be possible. You are, after all, mortal. Yet you not only harnessed it to strike a draken, but you also invoked compulsion on not one but two Primals.”