“I want to show you that I meant what I said about serving you. I want to be your hound. I want to—” He swallowed thickly. “—have a relationship with you.”
“And I want to fly,” I said dryly. “Get to the point.”
His sneer returned, and he snapped, “You’re literally a fucking angel.”
“But”—I popped the B obnoxiously—“I can’t fly.”
Scorpius exhaled loudly, and it sounded like he was screaming through his nose. I slumped back on my bed and rolled my eyes.
Instead of walking away like I expected, Scorpius smiled, and it transformed the harsh edges of his face into a breathtaking work of art. “I would like to have some quality time between the two of us. Is that okay with you?”
For a second, I was speechless.
I’d never seen the cruel king smile before, and holy sun god, his face was a weapon of mass destruction.
Pain streaked across my back, and my breath hitched.
He frowned and narrowed his eyes.
I whispered, “No.”
He scowled darkly and clenched his hands into fists, and the dark circles under his eyes seemed to expand.
“No,” I explained with another heavy sigh. “You do not get to spend quality time with me, because I still hate you.”
His scowl deepened, and he opened his mouth.
“However,” I cut him off, “you can spend quality time with me because it will probably piss off Malum.”
He would be so angry if I let Scorpius shower with me when he wasn’t around. I could practically feel the heat from his meltdown.
The blind devil kept looming over me, but he unclenched his hands and quirked an eyebrow.
I opened my mouth to say something derogatory about his mates—because I never missed an opportunity to talk shit about my enemies—but he grabbed my wrist and I forgot what I was going to say.
Without saying another word, he tugged me out of bed toward the small bathroom and pulled us both inside before I could change my mind.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” John yelled cheekily, and we both ignored him. “Let us know if you want help. We’re happy to join.”
Scorpius mumbled under his breath, “We’ll get to that later.”
I stumbled. He really was becoming obsessed with John.
“Speak for yourself,” Luka muttered as the door closed with a loud click.
Suddenly, I was trapped.
With the king who liked pain.
Chapter 23
Scorpius
SHOWERS
Cordolium （noun）： heartfelt grief.
DAY 11, HOUR 12
“While we’re in the shower, I’m in charge,” Arabella said.
She was adorable.
And delusional.
I quirked my eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest as I mockingly waited for her directives. Then I remembered I was trying to appear nonthreatening, and I softened my features, relaxed my posture.
Earlier her breathing had changed like she was in pain, and my stomach had plummeted because just being in my presence had hurt her. I didn’t want that.
I inhaled deeply. Her icy scent filled the small bathroom.
She was pure adrenaline to the veins.
Muscles flexing, senses heightened, I forced myself to keep my arms at my side. Fingers relaxed.
Listening to her wrestle with John had triggered something inside me.
They were both so noisy.
So playful.
I wanted them both.
I’d start with Arabella.
Cold wafted off her, and goose bumps prickled my skin from her proximity.
The bathroom was pathetically small, and just standing in front of the shower meant we were chest to chest, mere inches between us.
She breathed unsteadily, and her breath puffed against the exposed skin on my neck.
I held back a moan.
“So. Now that we’re in here, we’re going to…” Arabella trailed off like she wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to command of me.
I swallowed down a mocking laugh because I knew exactly what she needed.
She needed to be cared for.
Looked after.
Pampered.
“Um,” she said awkwardly as she struggled to come up with an idea.
It took every ounce of control I possessed to appear receptive to directions.
It was the least I could do.
Ever since I’d learned that Arabella had been tortured as a child, a sick sense of guilt twisted my stomach. I woke up nauseous and went to bed feeling weak. It permeated every second of my day.
Just like myself, my Revered had suffered at the hands of others when she was too young to defend herself.
Yet I’d called her pampered. Weak. I’d tormented her and added to her distress.