Kingdom of the Wicked (Kingdom of the Wicked, #1)(45)

I shoved the dream from my mind and focused on my surroundings, then promptly wished I hadn’t. I vaguely recalled the sensation of warm, wet-slicked skin against mine. Muscular legs. The feeling of complete safety. I didn’t know if that was real or imagined, either.

I closed my eyes again and silently counted until my pulse slowed. It took a second, but I realized my wound was completely healed.

Wrath had worked an enormously powerful spell. I felt recharged, almost buzzing with excess energy. I’d been an empty vessel before being poured beyond capacity with life. I wanted to jump up and dance, or fight, or make love. Maybe all at once.

To avoid thinking about forbidden kisses while I was naked, I concentrated on the room. I was in a bathing chamber that was ornate yet shabby. The chipped marble tub was beautiful, white with veins of gold. Mosaic tiles covered the walls, depicting winged creatures and fields of flowers.

A slight rustle from the corner to my left caught my attention. Wrath stood with his back to me, as if offering a bit of privacy. Rivulets dripped off the planes of his tanned upper body. His very toned and naked upper body. Goddess above, he needed to put a shirt on. Immediately.

Until he did, I stole a peek at the ink I’d seen in the cave the first night I’d summoned him. Shimmering gold and charcoal tattoos crossed from shoulder to shoulder. They appeared to be lines of Latin, but I was too far away to be sure. I swallowed hard and averted my focus. It looked like he’d gotten out of the tub moments before I’d awakened. Those foggy bits from last night were definitely memories then, not dreams. My face heated. He probably already figured out I was awake and was waiting for me to say something. This was . . . painfully awkward.

Not wanting to delay the inevitable, I cleared my throat. He rotated until we were face-to-face. Tousled damp hair made him appear almost human, but the energy radiating around him shattered the illusion. It was like soaking in a tub while lightning struck perilously close by. He was alert and looked like he had been for quite some time. It was strange, seeing him outside of the summoning circle. Stranger still that he’d saved me. I wasn’t sure what that meant, if anything. I settled against the side of the tub and took a deep breath.

Despite his proclamation about not coming for me, he didn’t let me die.

I don’t know what powers he’d invoked to bring me back from the edge of death, but he’d given all he had. And I didn’t think my protection charm was the only reason he’d helped me. I’d felt something last night, more intimate than if we’d shared a bed. For one strangely long second, I swore we’d been inside each other’s minds. What I saw there, deep where he couldn’t hide it, wasn’t simple hatred he felt toward me. It was much more complex.

Light filtered in from an arched window with no coverings, accentuating the chiseled angles of his face. If I didn’t know exactly what he was, I might mistake him for an angel. Which, in a way, I supposed he was. I wondered what he’d done that was evil enough to be cast out of heaven. I didn’t ask. I doubted he’d confess his sins.

His focus roved over my features, his expression unreadable. I fought a chill.

“I had these . . . dreams,” I said slowly. “Or memories. Maybe both. You used powerful magic last night.” I watched him carefully. He didn’t move or break eye contact. For a horrible second, I wondered if he’d gone catatonic. Then he cocked his head, waiting. “Before I went after the Viperidae, you said there was a great cost for an antidote.”

I glanced down at the water. I remembered the way we’d been sitting—his legs and arms and body flush against mine . . . I’d seen illustrations before. Only a few ancient rituals required bare skin contact—in essence, they were a rebirth of sorts. Like he’d transferred some of his power to me, using water as a conductor between our flesh. None of the rituals were to be taken lightly. I wasn’t sure if his magic was the same as a witch’s, but figured it was close.

I flicked my attention back to his. “What was your price for saving me?”

The temperature seemed to plummet. He held my gaze as he slowly crossed the room. Unyielding anger shone in those golden eyes. “You should be more concerned with the price you had to pay. I hope it was worth it.”

He turned to leave. Before he could, I hopped up from the water and blocked his retreat. “You can’t say that and just go. What was the price?”

“Would you really like to have this conversation in the bath?”

“Why not? Suddenly feeling shy?”

He exuded the opposite of shyness. Honestly, with a body like that and all of that power, I wasn’t surprised by his confidence. He crossed his arms over his broad chest. Up close, the gold snake tattooed on his arm was breathtaking. “You want to talk, witch. I’ll start. You made a choice last night that had catastrophic consequences. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be dead.”

It was annoyingly true. “Getting my sister’s amulet back was worth whatever it cost me. And if I had to do it all over again, I would without hesitation.”

“Which proves you’re either reckless, or foolish, or both.”

“If I’m so foolish and reckless, why save me?” I held up a hand. “Spare me from the protection charm excuse. You and I both know that’s not the whole truth.” He opened his mouth and I cut him off again. “I don’t know the exact spell you used, but I know enough of certain rituals and their requirements that I have a pretty good guess. Tell me why you saved me. Now.”