Those thick lashes of his lifted as his gaze roamed over my face. Seconds ticked by. “What are you thinking about?”
I stiffened. Oh, gods, I’d likely been projecting. “What do you feel?”
“I don’t know.” He sounded confounded, curious. “I…I taste sweetness.” His brows pinched. “It reminds me of chocolate and strawberries.”
“And you don’t know what that is?”
“I don’t,” Ash said, frowning.
Gods.
My heart cracked a little as I quickly looked away. He didn’t know what he tasted because he didn’t know what love tasted like. Or felt like. Neither did I. Not until I realized what I’d been feeling, but Ash…it was different for him because his kardia had been removed. Love was never something welcomed or wanted.
I swallowed the knot, hoping I wasn’t projecting anything and that he wasn’t reading me. I didn’t want him to feel that sorrow.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he persisted softly. “Why am I now Ash to you? Why would you want to be more than a Consort in title only after I hurt you? After I—”
“I know,” I cut in, briefly closing my eyes.
“Know what?”
“I know you didn’t betray me.” I sat the glass aside, choosing my words carefully. “And that you truly didn’t want to hurt my feelings. That it…it wasn’t like that.”
Ash was quiet.
Squaring my shoulders, I pushed anything I might feel down so deep, he wouldn’t be able to pick up on it. Other than my anger, I doubted he would want to taste anything else. I twisted toward him, hoping I didn’t tear any of the diamonds free. “I know about Veses.”
His features sharpened as he lowered the glass to his knee. That was the only change. The only sign that he knew what I was referencing. “Did she tell you?”
I opened my mouth but decided it was probably best that he believed that. I didn’t want him to be upset with Rhain. “I…” I trailed off, having no idea what to say. The deal he made involved me, but he had been the one who sacrificed. Him that Veses’ cruelty had impacted. This wasn’t about how I felt about it. My horror or anger or agony. There was only one thing I could say. “Thank you.”
The glass shattered in Ash’s hand.
Gasping, I shot to my feet as liquor and glass fell across his knee and onto the floor. Streaks of red smeared his palm. “You cut yourself.”
“I’m fine.” He closed his fingers over the pieces of glass.
“You’re cutting yourself even more!” I bent, grasping his hand as I brushed the shards of glass from his knee and the settee. The charge of energy was stronger. Blood welled between his fingers. “Good gods,” I whispered, returning to sit beside him. “Open your hand.”
“I told you, I’m fine.”
“Open your hand, Ash!”
He made no move to do so.
Cursing, I pried his fingers loose. Pieces of glass were embedded deep into his palm, slicing through the golden swirl. The slices free of glass had already begun to heal. “I know you’re a Primal,” I said, straightening his hand out as I placed it against my knee. “And you’ll heal just fine, but I’m also pretty sure you won’t with glass in your hand.”
“You’re going to get blood on your dress,” he stated.
“I don’t care.” I picked out a sliver of glass, dropping it onto the small table. “It’s not like I’ll wear it again.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think one wears their wedding dress more than once.” I dug out another larger piece. Ash hissed. “Sorry.”
“Don’t—” He drew in a deep breath. “Don’t apologize. Don’t thank me.”
I briefly closed my eyes, cursing at myself. I wanted to apologize again because I’d obviously said the wrong thing.
“And you can wear the damn dress again whenever you feel like it.”
Nodding, I swallowed as I plucked out another piece. The scent of his blood washed over me as I smoothed my thumb over the imprint, searching for specks of glass I couldn’t see.
“Is that why you call me Ash now?”
“What?” I looked back at him.
His flesh had thinned, deepening with shadows. “Because you learned that I’ve been Veses’ personal blood meal and suddenly realized you wanted to be my Consort?”
“No.”
His beautiful mouth twisted into a cold, cruel smirk. “Really, liessa?”
“No,” I repeated. “I told you I wanted to be your Consort before.”
“But that changed.”
“It did. Because I didn’t know everything when it came to her, and I…” I turned back to his palm, seeing that several more places still seeped blood. “I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”
“You won’t.”
I scraped a tiny piece of glass out with my nail. “I just did.”
“That has nothing to do with you,” he bit out. “Speak.”
His tone would’ve set me off at any other time, but not now. “My feelings were hurt when I saw you two together. That changed what I wanted. You know that. But now that I know why you two…were together, my thoughts on it have changed.”
“We weren’t together,” he stated, and the temperature of the room dropped.
“I know. I…” Despite him demanding that I speak, he was the one that needed to, but only if he wanted to. Other than what I knew I needed to say, I had to shut the hell up. “What you did to protect me isn’t why I feel that way. I wanted to be more to you than a Consort in title only before I learned about that. What it did was help me understand a bit of what I saw. We don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to.” I looked over my shoulder once more. “But know that if you don’t kill her, I will find a way to do it myself.”
He stared at me for a moment and then laughed. Deeply. Hard.
“I’m being serious,” I told him.
“Not a single part of me doubts that.”
I held his gaze. “The bitch is dead.”
“Agreed.”
“Good.” I returned to his palm, carefully plucking out the remaining glass. I only knew I’d gotten them all when no fresh blood seeped. “All done.”
“Thank you,” he said roughly.
Pressing my lips together, I ran my finger across his palm—over the golden swirl. I reached the end near his thumb and then his fingers curled, threading through mine. His blood stained both our hands, but him holding mine was a…well, a beautiful sight. I brought our joined hands to my mouth and placed a kiss on the top of his.
His shudder flowed through to me.
Minutes ticked by.
“I didn’t want you to know,” he uttered. “I didn’t want you to feel responsible.”
I fought the urge to tell him that what I felt was the last thing he needed to be worried about.
“And I…I didn’t want you—anyone—to know what kind of control she had. What kind of complication she is,” he continued after a moment, speaking to the back of my bowed head. “Attes knows she feeds from me, but he doesn’t know why. Only a few do. But we were never together. She fed from me. Sometimes, she made it pleasurable. Other times, it burned like the Abyss. And if I disagreed with where she wanted to feed from, it was almost always the latter in terms of how she did it. I actually preferred when it was that way. It was far better than the alternative. Gaining any sort of pleasure from her was—and is—the last thing I want. But the only thing of mine she has ever had in her is my blood.”
Whatever relief I felt at learning that it hadn’t gone further than her taking his blood was short-lived because forcing pleasure onto someone without their consent was still a violation, no matter what their history was. Blackmailing them into servicing any need was still a violation.