Page 141 of A Cursed Son

“Obviously. I spent my nights doing it. Who wouldn’t think about it during the day?”

I swallow, surprised that he can be so candid about it. “It’s not like you showed it.”

“What would you want me to do?” His eyes widen. “Leer at you? Tell you all the thoughts crossing my mind? While you were staring at me like I was a monster?”

He can’t be serious. “I wasn’t staring at you like that.”

“That’s how it felt, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Plus, I thought you were trying to seduce me, and didn’t want you to think you were succeeding.”

“I wasn’t trying?—”

“I know. Now I know. Then I didn’t. I kept wondering if I was a hopeless fool caught in a trap I didn’t even understand what for, or if my mind had just become sex-addled for some reason. Torment, Astra.”

“You say it as if it was my fault.”

“You could have told me, wife, told me it was happening to you too.” I’m about to protest, when he says, “But I understand you were afraid. I can see I didn’t help.”

Perhaps I didn’t help either, but then, the way he talks about it while keeping his distance, his composure, doesn’t help me believe he was ever attracted to me. “You pretend well. I would never have guessed any of that.”

“I’m telling you now. With my whole chest, Astra, because we can’t fix something if we don’t know what it is. And it’s not as if I wasn’t redirecting all that sexual energy.”

“Redirecting?” With someone else. I feel as if there’s a layer of ice under my skin, but try to pretend it doesn’t bother me. “So you had lovers.”

He frowns, then laughs. “Two, actually. The most wonderful and amazing lovers you’ll ever find. They’re fantastic, in fact.”

It takes me a lot of effort to keep my face a mask, to keep my voice steady even though there’s only emptiness inside me. I shrug. “Don’t know why you were complaining, then.”

He has a half smirk as he sets his eyes on me. “My loving time with them doesn’t erase my thoughts about you, so there’s that.”

“That’s gross.”

He chuckles. “Are you jealous?” The delight in his tone makes me sick.

“Why should I be? And I don’t know why you laugh at things that aren’t funny.”

“Actually, I think you should be jealous.” He raises his hands in the air. “Let me introduce you to Righty. And Lefty, the roasted one.”

Oh.

He’s unbelievable. I slap his hands. “You’re a crass asshole, did you know that?”

“Ouch. You are jealous.” His laughter sounds relaxed and happy—but I’m still annoyed.

“Marlak. I don’t care what you do with your hands.”

And yet strangely, the image of his scarred, ringed hand moving up and down doesn’t disgust me. If anything, I want to join his hands, feel him, then feel them caressing my body. Lefty and Righty. Agh. No.

He’s looking at me as if he can see all these thoughts, then says, “I think you should care.”

“We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

He tilts his head. “Maybe we should. I’m here being honest with you, and I have no idea how you… How these…” He makes a circle in the air with his hand. “… visions have been affecting you.”

I take a deep breath. How honest does he want me to be? “I liked the dreams when I was dreaming them. They weren’t unpleasant. But when I woke up, they felt awkward, especially when you were telling me I was pathetic.”

“You make it seem like it was every day. I stopped, Astra.”

“But once you made it crystal clear you’d never want me, did you have to repeat it?”