Chapter 22: Erin

When I woke up again, it was nighttime. The room was dark except for the glow of the moon sliding through the wide-swept windows, revealing a silhouette standing by the glass. It had to be Dez, judging by the nearly seven-foot-tall frame, but I couldn’t tell if he was facing away or toward me. My arm was free of any wrappings and bereft of any scars or marks from where the three-headed beast had torn into me. Someone had changed me out of my cut-up, blood-stained dress at one point and put me in silk pajamas. Anger sparked, now knowing why Dez insisted I wear them.

I sat up slowly, in case I wasn’t fully healed, but I only felt slightly sore. I rested against the black headboard, noting the seating area gathered around the sleek black fireplace, the massive size of the room itself, and the small island I sat on compared to the bed in my temporary room. The generic black and white painting still hung on the wall, the black paint splattering like the blood of the lion beast. My stomach churned, and it wasn’t just because I realized I was in Dez’s bedroom.

“Welcome back, love.” Dez’s dark figure turned, his expression guarded by shadows.

I didn’t reply.

“The silent treatment? That won’t get you far.”

Suddenly, Dez sat beside me on the bed. He’d thrown his arm across the back of the headboard and had one leg arched with his other hand casually across it. He wore gray slacks and a white button-down that looked as if he’d tugged at the collar of it more than once, with perfectly messy hair, like he’d been running his hands through it all day.

I ignored the liquid heat that shot through me, the thrill of excitement that prickled across my skin where his arm touched my shoulders. I didn’t bother trying to put space between us, knowing it would be a waste of energy.

“What do you want, Dez?” I knew what he wanted, and I couldn’t give it to him.

His fingers gently lifted my chin, pulling my face closer to his. I refused to meet his eyes even as I felt the weight of his gaze on my lips. “Would you believe me if I said I was worried about you?”

“No,” I said flatly. “What do you want?”

“I want a lot of things, Erin.” His lips grazed my cheek, and I sucked in a shaky breath.

“I’m still injured.” I tossed out the lame excuse as if that would protect me. I felt fine, but he didn’t have to know that.

He paused, his gaze scanning my body. “Where does it hurt?”

My stomach flipped. It sounded like he cared, but as I saw with Henrietta, the Council, and me, I knew he was a superb actor. “Everywhere,” I lied.

“The healers said you made a full recovery. If they lied to me, I’ll have them tortured and locked up.”

Can he do that? I frowned, unable to read whether he was telling the truth. “I’m fine.” I didn’t want anyone hurt for my sake.

He smiled as if knowing that, too.

“It seems you’ve been hiding quite a few secrets, Erin.” He grabbed a lock of my hair, rolling the strands between his fingers.

My spine straightened. Here it was, the heart of the matter, and what I’d been dreading since I fled from Dez and used the silver coin to rescue Lucy.

“No more than you. Why don’t you want to join the Council? It would certainly make it easier for you to refute me at trial.”

His fingers stilled. “I see you haven’t been sleeping this whole time. Curious, did you overhear anything else?”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

I yelped when he tugged at the strand of hair. It didn’t bring tears to my eyes, but it was certainly harder than a playful tug.

“If I recall correctly, you never answered mine either, sweetheart. In fact, I told you to stay put.” He tugged on my hair again, this time harder. I pulled it out of his grip when he snatched my wrist. His eyes narrowed on my forearm, where a jagged scar should have been, given all the blood and pain I went through.

“Never pull a stunt like that again.” Dez’s tone dropped, almost guttural. Primal. Completely opposite from the persuasive, charismatic Dez I knew. Then again, did I truly know anything about him?

“I wouldn’t have had to if you’d been there to help.” I used my anger as a crutch to hide the fear creeping in my belly. I was in Dez’s bedroom, powerless and vulnerable. There’s no telling what he would do to get the truth, and I didn’t have my silver coin to escape this time.

“Did you make another contract with him to save her?” He pulled my arm out farther, his nails grazing up the length of it as if searching for proof of another mark. “Tatianna told me you entered the tournament,” his eyes shifted to the tattooed ring around my finger, proof of my ‘ticket’ to the arena, “but that she had nothing to do with your little hero act. Something you’d like to share, dear?”

“I didn’t make another contract. Cal helped me of his own volition.”

Dez laughed, his hand still gripping my wrist. “Nice try. Cal doesn’t help anyone out unless it benefits him.”

I felt sweat build at the base of my spine. “The same could be said for you.” Dez had only been nice to me because I looked like Angelica—and the fact he needed information out of me.

He went quiet. Then said, “I didn’t have to get you new clothes. Nothing benefited me there. But if that’s how you feel...” He dropped my wrist and snapped his fingers. My silk pajamas vanished, leaving me naked.

I instinctively pulled the sheets up over my chest, but Dez yanked them out of my grip. Heat rose in my cheeks as I crossed my arms to shield myself. What would I do if this devolved into another incident like the one at Tatianna’s gala? As much as my body came alive at the thought, logically I knew that would equal me eventually caving into Dez’s questions unless some miracle happened.