Legendary (Caraval #2)(75)
She shivered at the wind slicing between her legs. Tella had never been modest but she felt as if she were only wearing a split sheet, held together by a knot tied at her shoulder and a braided cord around her waist. The cord dragged on the ground with her every step. Completely unflattering, and difficult to run in.
And everything about the Temple of the Stars made her want to turn and flee in the opposite direction.
Massive wings perched atop the temple’s domed roof, glowing as bright as fresh flames, and yet for all their magnificence, no one lingered outside of the temple’s great entrance. Perhaps that’s why there were so many statues littering its wide moonstone steps, giving the impression of visitors and life. Though anyone who looked at these sculptures up close would never have mistaken them for humans.
Thick and tall as temple columns, the men possessed muscled arms as large as tree trunks, while the women had been given overflowing breasts and eyes made of aquamarines. Tella imagined they were supposed to be the stars. They might have been beautiful, if she hadn’t also noticed the other statues. The smaller, thinner ones, on their knees before the stars. Disturbingly real and lifelike. Burning torches cast fireweed-red light on the human statues, on the beads of sweat at their temples and the calluses on their hands. Their feet were all bare, and some hunched in submission while others held out their arms, offering up swaddled babes or toddling children.
Tella choked on something that tasted like disgust as she wondered what her mother might have traded for the opal ring on Tella’s finger.
“If you don’t like this, you really won’t approve of what you find inside.” Dante leaned against one of the pillars flanking the temple’s massive door, all bronzed flesh and brilliant tattoos—
And, oh glory, he was shirtless.
So very shirtless.
Tella willed herself not to stare, to march past him and ignore him, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him or prevent the rush of heat that spread across her chest and up her neck. She had seen young men unclothed before—she was fairly certain she’d even seen him without a shirt—but somehow Dante looked different at the top of those steps. Taller and thicker. More consuming. He was dressed like one of the statues, with only a wide white cloth wrapped around his lower half, accentuating the bronzed perfection of his legs and chest.
Tella snapped her mouth shut, but it was too late. He’d seen her jaw drop, and now the vainglorious bastard was smiling. All white teeth and flawless lips as if he were one of the stars worshipped inside the Temple. And Tella had to admit, in that moment he could have convinced her. Just like he’d managed to trick her into believing that he actually cared about her.
This was the first time she’d seen him since he’d carried her broken body away from Idyllwild Castle. She imagined he expected a thank-you for saving her that night. But after what he’d said to Julian, about only caring because she could lead them to the cards, Tella wasn’t about to thank Dante for anything. She wanted to say something witty or scathing, but to her horror all that came out was: “You should never wear a shirt.”
His grin was devastating. Dante pushed off the pillar then and propped an elbow against one of the statues closer to her. Moonlight danced over the thick black thorns tattooed across his clavicle while his dark eyes did the same to Tella. They slid up one slit of her dress until …
He scowled.
Something dipped in Tella’s stomach. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Dante reached down, grabbed the end of the cord holding her scrap of fabric together, and tugged.
Every inch of Tella’s skin went hot. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you.” He inclined his head toward one of the female statues who wore a garment similar to Tella’s, only the rope around her middle started directly below her breasts and then wrapped around several times creating a diamond pattern until it knotted at the waist, leaving only two short tassels hanging near her curving hips.
“You have it all wrong.” Dante stole the cord’s other end. “We’re going to have to remove the rope and retie it.”
Tella snatched both ends back and took a wobbly step away. “You can’t take apart my dress on these stairs.”
“Does that mean I can take it apart somewhere else?” His low voice oozed dark promises.
Tella swatted him with the rope.
“I’m only joking.” Dante held up both hands with a surprisingly unguarded grin. “I wasn’t planning on undressing you here or any where else. But we’re going to have to fix your sheet if you want to get inside.”
“It’s a sheath, not a sheet,” Tella argued. “And they won’t care how it’s tied.”
“If you think that, then you clearly don’t know enough about this sanctuary. A different world exists on the other side of those marble doors. But if you want to enter like that, go ahead.” He flicked one end of the cord in her hands.
Tella glowered. “I think you enjoy tormenting me.”
“If you hate it so much, why haven’t you walked away?”
“Because you’re standing in my way.”
It was a poor excuse and they both knew it.
It was so much easier to despise him in her head than it was face-to-face. She just kept seeing the way he’d looked at her as he’d carried her from Idyllwild castle. There’d been a moment when he’d appeared so treacherously young and close too vulnerable. But was it because he’d actually cared about losing her? Or had he only feared because losing her meant losing his chance at finding her mother’s Deck of Destiny?