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“Ismene’s pet psychopath,” Maia answered in a tired, joyless voice, hunching into a tighter ball. “Etziel. I pissed her off. She had me tortured. I never disobeyed again. And we all lived happily ever after.”

Bryon sank his hands into her wet hair, silver-white strands sliding between his fingers as he cupped the back of her neck. “I’ll add his name to the list.”

Maia shuddered for a moment, just long enough for him to notice until she locked her body and killed her reaction. “What list?” she muttered, giving him a glare with a little sideways look that lit his soul on fire.

“The list of people I’m going to kill for you.”

Her response was a soft growl that made him smile. “Seriously? More killing? Wasn’t today enough?”

“I’m not going to apologise,” he said in the rough voice that usually got him called a grumpy bastard. “Tell me about Etziel.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not in the bath, Maia. We wouldn’t both fit.”

Her sudden laughter was bright and loud, tugging his lips into a smile. She arranged her features into a stern expression. “Don’t make me laugh, I’m pissed off at you.”

His smile deepened, one side hooked up into a smirk. He didn’t mind Maia being angry at him; anything was better than that dead look in her eyes after Eosantha. At least she wasn’t staringthroughhim right now.

“What are you doing?” she demanded when he cupped some water in his other hand and ran it down her hair.

“Getting rid of these knots so my fingers stop getting caught in your tangles.”

“Or you could keep your hands out of my hair…” she suggested, her back hunched, the look she shot him suspicious.

Bryon just laughed. No fucking chance. If he was looking this mate bond in the eye instead of tiptoeing around it, if he was accepting her, claiming her as part of him, he would allow himself to obsess over all this gorgeous hair. Even filthy and matted, it drew him like a moth to the flame.

“Great,” Maia said under her breath as he cupped more water, letting it run through her hair until the strands turned silver, “I’m locked up with a man who’s gone insane.”

“It happened years ago, princess,” he chuckled, working his fingers gently through a knot until the strands laid flat and perfect. “That’s old news.”

“Why are you washing my hair?” she whispered.

“Because I want to,” he whispered back in a conspiratorial tone. “Are you going to stop me?”

“Well,” she muttered. “No. It feels nice. AndIwas never the one in denial about the bond, so I’m not about to turn down attention from my—”

He waited for her to finish as he got through the worst of her tangles. “Mate,” he said gently when it became clear she wouldn’t. “You can say it; I’m not running anymore.”

Maia’s loud snort was so welcome he almost groaned. “Running. Sure. Our last abode wasreallyconducive to running. I bet you ran for miles.”

He tugged a strand. “Smartass. Tell me about the man who did this to you so I can plan exactly how I’m going to murder him.”

Maia sighed, her back heaving with the rough breath. “I’m mostly over it. It’s just being locked up that’s unlocking all my memories.”

He stayed silent, waiting for her to continue, making sure he’d done a good job of untangling her hair before he scanned the bathroom for any sort of hair tool, lotion, or potion. It was hardly his area of expertise but he knew what they looked like.

“That’s what my nightmares are about. Him, and that cell, and the—the times he cut into me.”

Bryon went still, nostrils flaring as he breathed through the rage, but his vision flickered. He had to move his hands before he fisted Maia’s hair and caused her more pain.

“He always knew how deep to cut, or how much blood I could afford to lose before I’d die,” she continued with a soft laugh. “I waited for it at the end, in the last few days. I wished for it.”

Bryon forced a breath out, then sucked air back into his lungs, though his whole body shook with suppressed wrath. He wanted to find this bastard and rip him limb from limb with his bare fucking hands. Instead, he forced himself to get to his feet and search the little cabinet on the opposite wall, digging his fingernails into the wood so hard he left dents among the carvings of rabbits and foxes and woodland.

“I know how that feels.” He forced the words through gritted teeth, holding himself tightly because he wanted to rush over there, scoop her out of the bath, and hold her as tight to him as possible, and that would only freak her out. He’d been in denial about being her mate, but now that he’d taken his head out of his ass, he was all in, all the fucking way. “I was taken for two weeks in the middle of a brutal battle between Sainsa and Vassal.”

“Jesus, how old are you?” Maia muttered.