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Chapter Twenty-Two

C allie

Back in our cottage, the silence feels heavier than usual. We move through our evening routine—preparing simple food, tending to Spark, arranging ourselves for meditation—but the weight of how close we came to a second mark hangs between us.

“The disruption fields,” I finally say as we settle into our meditation positions. “That wasn’t a random protest.”

Aries nods grimly. “Coordinated. Timed perfectly to when we’d be most vulnerable.” His hands rest on his thighs, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “Someone’s been tracking our progress, planning this.”

The implications settle around us like a cold draft. The opposition has moved beyond angry crowds to organized sabotage—sabotage that nearly cost us everything today.

“They’ll try again,” I state, not really a question.

“Probably worse next time.” His golden eyes meet mine across our small space. “The closer we get to completion, the more desperate they become. ”

I think of Mira Thessian’s grief-hardened face, of the protesters who see our success as a denial of justice for their losses. Understanding their pain doesn’t make the danger less real.

Although all today’s trial required of me physically was the wave of my hands, I’m so emotionally fatigued I can barely see straight.

Perhaps it was the near brush with death at the hands of the rioters—or the knowledge that a single misstep could bring Aries’ one step closer to death.

For whatever reason, I feel as though I could sleep for a week.

I’ve never been much of a bath girl, preferring a quick shower and getting on with my never-ending list of tasks. Now, though, I think I’d love a soak in the large tub that takes up most of the cozy refresher.

Then a thought strikes me. It’s a picture, really. The very insistent image of me up to my neck in warm water as Aries kneels at the side of the tub, washing me.

I rub the back of my neck with my palm and let my lids flutter shut as I picture the lazy smile on his face, the slow movement of his hands, the look of lambent arousal in his beautiful golden eyes.

My nipples prick into tight buds as I feel my almost constant arousal rise to new heights.

Suddenly an idea hits me. I’m out of my chair and hurrying to the Manual as though my heels have wings.

After several minutes of scanning, I find the passage I was looking for. There must be something about my intense scrutiny of the book, because Aries has left his perch on the window seat and is standing nearby.

Rereading the section on physical restrictions, a slow smile curves my lips. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting? ”

“So many touching prohibitions. They’re so clear. But looking , Aries? There’s not a word against it.”

His expression shifts from confusion to understanding to alarm. “No.”

“Here.” I pat the chair next to me at the table and turn the Manual toward him. "Look for yourself."

“Callie…” His voice holds warning, but I see the heat flaring in his expression.

I don’t blame him for taking an inordinate amount of time flipping through the pages. His life is on the line. But nowhere does it prohibit looking.

“Take all the time you need to confirm I’m right. In the meantime, I’ll be running a bath. By the way, those are usually taken in the nude.”

His hands clench as he reads, and I know the exact moment he realizes I’m right. “This is…” A muscle tics in his jaw. “You’re playing with fire.”

“No.” Moving toward the bathing chamber, I glance back over my shoulder. “I’m playing by the rules. Exactly as written.”

The bathing chamber isn’t large, but the deep tub dominates the space. Candles line the shelves—their light will paint everything in flickering gold.

“Your choice,” I say softly, lighting the first candle. “But I really could use the help.”

His breathing has grown heavier, but he hasn’t moved. “The rules…”

“Will be followed to the letter.” Another candle flares to life. “Not one touch. Just… looking.”

When I reach for the tie of my robe, his sharp intake of breath sends heat pooling low in my belly. “Last chance to leave. ”

“Callie…” My name emerges as a growl, but he stays, eyes burning, as I let the robe fall.

The candlelight plays across my skin as I step into the steaming water. His gaze feels like a physical caress, making every nerve ending tingle.

He’s seen me nude before, but that was a lifetime ago. It’s been five years since then. Five years of hardships and camaraderie, running from bad guys and scrabbling for enough money to stay flying, and five years of fighting.

I’ve spent countless hours in the ship’s ludus , learning tricks from some of the best gladiators in the galaxy. I’m not ashamed of my body. I hold my head high as we both wait for a chime to ring, or one of the Committee to materialize and scold us.

“It’s just the two of us,” I whisper.

He lets out a long, relieved breath.

After settling into the warm water, I grab the round bathing puff and hand it to him.

His hands tremble slightly as he takes it, maintaining perfect regulation distance. “Where?”

Sweet male. He certainly knows where. He learned my body well enough in that cell on the Warbird One all those years ago.

“Start with my shoulders.” Turning my back to him, I gather my hair up, exposing my neck. “Remember—not one touch,” I remind him, although of the two of us, he certainly has more to lose than me if a mistake is made.

The puff glides over my skin, guided by his careful hands. Each stroke feels more intimate than any touch of skin on skin, accompanied by his ragged breathing and the soft splash of water .

“Lower,” I murmur, arching slightly. A sound escapes him—half growl, half groan.

“You’re killing me,” he says roughly, but the puff continues its journey down my spine, through the water, all the way to the top of my ass.

“Just following the rules.” I splash water on my neck and let him watch it trickle between my breasts as I turn to face him. “I wouldn’t want you to miss a spot.”

His eyes have shifted to molten gold, pupils dilated as he watches rivulets trace paths he can’t touch. The puff moves with agonizing slowness across my collarbone, down the curve of my breast.

“The Manual,” he grits out, “did not anticipate this.”

“But it doesn’t forbid it. Lucky us.” Leaning back, I let him see everything the water makes glisten. “Keep going.”

Each stroke of the puff builds the tension higher. His breathing grows more ragged as he works his way down, maintaining that crucial distance while his gaze devours every inch revealed.

It’s been long minutes with no interference by the Committee. Aries’ shoulders are no longer up around his ears. His forehead is no longer tight with worry. His mouth isn’t pressed into a thin, anxious line. Instead, he’s revealing those sensuous lips of his.

Now that he’s relaxed, he takes his time, using long strokes to wash my arms and shorter movements to get my neck and ears.

The floral scent reminds me of honeysuckle as it swirls around us. Between the scent and the low light from the candles, it’s almost hypnotic.

“Open your thighs,” he orders hoarsely. “I want to see all of you. I want to watch the water cascade over every curve while I clean you. ”

The rough command in his voice makes my core clench with want. This is the dominant side of him I glimpsed when he fought—the side that takes charge when desire overwhelms his usual careful control.

“Wider,” he breathes as I comply, his golden eyes fixed on my most intimate places. “Perfect. You’re so beautiful here, Callie. So pink and perfect.”

“I like this part of you,” I say.

His head jerks back in surprise.

“Dear God, I’m so tired of the man who only communicated his apologies. I like the Aries who orders me to split my thighs for him.”

His eyes widen in surprise, but he’s far too smart to ask even one follow-up question. Instead, he almost grips my knees to pull them apart even wider, but catches himself in the nick of time.

“I almost…”

“You don’t have to yank my legs wider, Aries. A simple request will do.”

With that, I lift the leg nearest him and settle my sole on the side of the tub. I imagine he has a ringside seat to every fold and hollow of my most private parts.

He gasps and forgets what he’s supposed to be doing with that puff. He’s staring now, not even pretending the sight isn’t the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. I’ve never felt more feminine.

“Callie.” His voice has reached his deepest register. “How can you be so beautiful? And feminine? You’re a different person than the female I met all those annums ago. You’re strong, sure of yourself. The annums have only made you more desirable. ”

My lids flutter closed as I allow myself to feel what his words do to me. This is more than a sex game, more than what I asked for. This is the male I’m falling for, telling me I’ve grown into someone he admires more than the girl whose virginity he took.

His hand is trembling as he shakes his head. It’s as though the moment is so powerful he can barely tolerate the emotions cascading through him. I understand. I feel that way, too.

Grabbing the puff, careful not to break the rule, I clean myself down there. For some reason, though I wanted this to be titillating, it’s become so emotionally powerful, I don’t want to play anymore.

When I’m done, he grips the puff and washes my legs with long, adoring strokes, taking special care behind my knees and somehow managing to get the puff between my toes without touching an iota of skin.

He drops the puff into the soapy water with a plop.

“I quit praying to the Gods after I was forced into the gladiator ludus. I certainly never prayed when I was on the slave ship. But for some reason, the Gods gave me the sweetest gift, Callie. You.”

He pierces me with the most sincere, affectionate gaze. “I squandered it once, Callista, but I vow by all that’s holy, I will never let you go again. Not if you want me. I will do whatever it takes for the rest of my life to be worthy of you.”

Goosebumps swarm over every exposed inch of my body, and they have nothing to do with the chilled air.

“You’re stealing my heart, Aries. One sweet word, one blazing look, one vow at a time.”