I struggle to get away, but as I turn my back to him, he presses his hand flat against my shoulder, holding me against the wooden slats while he lifts my nightgown. He moves his hand to pull it over my head. I shiver again in the cool breeze as my back rounds away from his touch. Kyon’s fingers skim down my back—a caress. I don’t look at him. I can’t.
He wraps the length of thin fabric around me, covering my bare skin. Tucking the end into the top, his hand reaches for mine. I pull my fingers back, but he latches on and holds them fast until I look up at him. His expression is stoic. He waits for me to figure out that he’s not going to let my hand go. I relent. He turns and takes me back toward his house.
We enter the bedroom through the wide opening in the wall. He leads me directly to the large bed. The bed is still unmade from where I’d climbed from it earlier. He straightens the sheets and holds them back with a gesture for me to get in. When I don’t immediately comply he says, “Do you want me to make you get in?”
I sigh and climb into the bed wordlessly. Lying on my side I pull the blanket up to my chin while I turn and face away from him. Moving around the other side of the bed, Kyon gets in too. I immediately turn away from him again and move to the edge of the bed. His arms wrap around me. He pulls me to him and tucks me close to his body. My muscles go rigid. Kyon kisses my hair and snuggles tight against me. I begin to struggle and try to pull away from him.
“Don’t move.”
“I don’t want you to touch me.”
“I don’t care what you want. This is what I want. You need to know that I’m the only person to whom you can turn.”
“I don’t need you.”
“You will.”
Realizing that struggling only makes him hold me tighter, I relax and try to pretend his body isn’t molded against mine. I can’t reason with him. At the moment, the only thing he’s capable of grasping is me. The warmth radiating from him is not unpleasant though. The stress and the struggle to survive are catching up to me. My eyes grow heavy—I fight to keep them open.
Kyon says, “Sleep.” It’s as if he reads my mind.
“I can’t. Who’ll protect me from you if I do?” I murmur wearily.
“No one.”
I struggle to stay awake, but it has been such a brutal night that I eventually drift off to sleep in the arms of my enemy.
CHAPTER 3
HOLLOW WELL
My cheek presses against bare skin. I shift to see the broad expanse of his chest. Moving my fingertips, I notice they’re resting against a sliver of a silver scar. I trace it, not knowing what it is right away. When did Trey get this? I gasp. My fingers curl on his flesh and I quickly look up. “Kyon!”
His deep voice murmurs, “I like to hear you wake with my name on your lips.” With his shoulders resting against plump, white pillows, Kyon’s blue eyes hood as he continues to stare at me. He moves his hand along my hair, stroking me like a favorite pet. “You slept,” he adds, as if letting me in on a secret. It all comes rushing back to me in a flood. My head jerks off of him as I cover my face with my hands and sit up. “How do you feel?”
I can’t tell if his concern is genuine. I peek at him through my fingers, shooting him a sidelong scowl. “My chest hurts like someone tried to drown me.”
“It’s still bruised. I compressed your heart after it stopped beating last night.” Stone-faced, he watches my reaction. “I’ll cut your hair now so that you’ll heal more quickly.” He gathers some of my hair away from my face. I blanch. It still troubles me that I’m genetically engineered to regenerate cells when my hair is cut. It makes me feel like I’m somehow less than real, and being in Ethar is already enough of a dose of unreality.
Dropping my hands, I sweep my hair away from him. “No. Don’t. I’m fine.” I don’t want you touching me, chester, I think, using the Etharian term for “pervert.”