Page 12 of Insolence (Eisha’s Hidden Codices #1)

Itissa

A lthough I’m fully clothed, I can’t help feeling exposed.

Elodie’s heated stare rakes over me in a way that feels invasive and far too familiar; I’m vulnerable beneath its intensity.

“This attraction between us. It’s powerful,” she murmurs. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Oh, gods. Trust me, I’m aware you noticed .” I blush furiously, my fingers going to the end of my braid. “I was fairly forward the other day. But you can’t deny… d-don’t tell me you're not interested, High Priestess. I can tell that you are.”

“Oh, Tiss.” She glances around before moving closer and pulling my hand from my hair. “I won’t deny it. In all honesty, I’ve been struggling to make sense of some things since your gorgeous ass showed up. But it’s not that simple.”

The rude compliment paired with the gravity in her tone stuns me to silence. I’m thrown completely off my axis.

“Let’s find somewhere safe to talk. Come on.” She drops my hand and takes off again, the hem of her cloak skimming the ground.

I hesitate before the shock wears off, then trot to catch up. But she’s too fast, disappearing around the tower and forcing me to pick up speed.

Jogging, I trail her through the interstice between the Orrery Tower and the craggy rock wall. The Observatory looms overhead, casting a shadow so deep the fissure is all but invisible as we approach it.

I don’t see the chasm entrance angled into the jagged stone until we’re nearly on top of it. Elodie spins around, grabbing my hands to pull me into the tiny cave.

It extends back four, maybe five feet before terminating in a blunt dead end cloaked in darkness. Once inside, we’re almost completely hidden.

“Gods,” I murmur, “I wouldn’t have known this was here if I hadn’t been following you.”

“That’s the idea.” She lets me go, her breath clouding the frigid air. “We should be safe for a short while.”

“Now that we’re concealed to your liking, what do you want?” I fire off with more boldness than I feel.

“All right,” she snorts. “Did you think that was cute back there?”

“What?”

She flashes a dark, exasperated look that says , Please be fucking serious . “Dropping a book at my feet? Sound familiar?”

My eyes flare wide. “I seem to be having some issues with my memory of late. You’ll have to forgive me.”

“Pity.” She blinks. “So long as we’re being open about our attraction to each other, we need to discuss your behavior before things go further.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my behavior ,” I say, equal parts flustered and strangely excited by this turn of the conversation.

“Mm-hmm. Don’t think I’m intimidated or impressed by the tantrum you threw when I’d done nothing but show concern for your well-being.”

“Oh, please. ‘ Tantrum ’ is a… a strong word. And maybe I didn’t want your concern. But I suppose that didn’t occur to you, now did it?” I turn aside and brush past her, venturing further into the dim chamber.

Elodie seizes my shoulder without missing a beat, spinning me back to face her. She gives an ironic sort of chuckle, as if she can’t wait to do something about my feigned indifference. Gods help me, it thrills me to the very bottom of my soul.

“If you didn’t want it, then you should’ve said so. You don’t get to push my buttons whenever you feel like it. Not without my permission.”

“Your permission ?”

“That’s right. People need rules between them if they want to play power games, Itissa.”

“Itissa, even.” I do my best to sound unimpressed, but I’m riveted.

She advances me backward in the small space until I hit the cold rock wall. Planting her left hand by my head, nose inches away from mine, she croons, “Do you know why the dynamic between me and Bibi works so well?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It works because it’s based on mutual trust, respect, and balance.” She uses her right hand to tap my chin, nose, and forehead, punctuating trust , respect , and balance .

I swat the hand away, fury gathering in my belly.

She catches my wrist and pins it to the wall by my left ear. The pulling sensation goes taut at the same moment, and a gasp leaves my throat.

“She was free to fly off if she didn’t like how I was offering treats.

She’s not leashed. I’d never tether or hood her.

She’s the one who chose to stay. She also chose to show off and misbehave when she’s well aware of the etiquette for taking food from my hand.

She decided she was going to be a brat about it.

” And the way Elodie says it, her needle-pointed glare boring right through me, I know that she’s calling me a brat, too.

The layers of arrogance and condescension in her unsolicited lecture rankle me. I struggle against her grip, grunting and swearing at her to let me go. But she redoubles her efforts, trapping my legs with her knees. “You do understand what I’m saying, right, Tiss?”

With a growl, my free hand rises to shove her away.

Calmly and unblinking, she catches it. Before I realize what’s happening, both of my wrists are pinned uncompromisingly to the cold rock on either side of my head.

“Passive-aggressive behavior won’t move me. I’m not going to lose my temper.”

“Fuck off,” I spit, wrestling against her grip. “Is that more direct for you?” But it’s no use. She’s taller and stronger than me, and her body is as solid as the rock that’s digging into my shoulders.

“That’s fine,” she murmurs, her relentless control rage-inducing. “Get it out of your system, if you must.” She flashes a cocky half-grin, gazing down at me as if she’s having the time of her damn life.

Heat courses through my chest, and air hisses between my teeth. Why is the thread between us pulsing right now?

Struggling again, I heave a frustrated huff when I register how thoroughly I’m trapped, my breath erupting in clouds between us. But I have no recourse.

There’s no choice but to listen.

“You see, Tiss,” she sighs, her eyes roaming my lips and nose and chin—trembling with indignation—and her gaze feels like a caress. “Sometimes our feelings can be difficult to deal with. Sometimes they’re so big and tangled up, they can cause us to act out.”

“Act out?”

“Mm-hmm. Test clear expectations and push reasonable boundaries. Often just to get a reaction. To try and get attention. Provoke others to lose their temper first so there’s an excuse to react. When we’re bratty like that, we get punished.”

Punished . A sharp thrill blossoms in my rib cage. Completely at odds with my anger, it shoots down, traveling between my legs.

“Reminded how to behave,” she whispers, leaning in to brush her cheek against mine.

“By getting ignored”—she kisses my cheek, catching me off guard—“or having privileges revoked.” A kiss is pressed to my other cheek, eliciting a gasp before she pulls back.

Her voice drops an octave: “Being disciplined.”

Disciplined . My stomach falls out of me. That’s precisely what’s happening now.

I can’t hold her deep eye contact and glance at the shadowy ceiling, my heart threatening to rupture. The echoing impressions of her kisses throb on my skin, filling me with an intense longing that wars with my outrage.

I want to claw her eyes out. I want to spit in her face. I want to run away, back to the orrery and Sadrie, and cry my heart out, but I don’t know why .

Well, other than the horrid realization that I might be in need of this lesson the imperious priestess is set on teaching.

“Just so you know,” she says, “power games are generally more enjoyable when all parties can regulate their emotions. Everyone stays on equal footing that way.”

For shit’s sake. Suddenly, I can see us both with sharp precision, and I’m embarrassed.

Not only has she been provoking me to show me how it feels, but her focused attention is exactly what I’ve been craving all along. Then there’s the fact that I’m infuriatingly turned on by her impeccable control over me. Especially by being put, literally , in my place.

Unable to juggle so many intense feelings, the anger trickles out of me. Like a fever breaking, the relief is astounding. I heave a sigh.

“Let’s try this again.” She’s been watching me wrestle myself for gods know how long. “Are you certain you don’t know what I’m getting at with all of this?”

I’m beside myself. Something inside of me fractures, breaking open like an egg. “You’re not talking about Bibi anymore,” I whisper while a mixture of titillation and begrudging respect oozes through me.

“No. I’m not talking about Bibi anymore.” Her tawny eyes are ringed with emerald in the deepening shadows. “What am I talking about, Tiss?”

“You’re talking about me.”

“ What about you?”

I hold still, not tearing my gaze away. “How I was acting.”

“Mm. And how were you acting?”

“Like a brat ,” I croak.

“Yes, you were. What else?”

My eyes slide shut. I’m trembling from cold or nerves—I can’t distinguish between the two. Her fingers clamped around my wrists might as well be steel rods. “I shouldn’t have dropped the book.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. It was disrespectful toward me, as well as the book. Now. Will you please tell me why you got so angry in there? Because I know there was more to it than my trying to help.”

Gods . I squirm in her grip, unsurprised that she won’t let me off even a little bit easy. Heat pricks my cheeks while I work up to it. “I got jealous of your attention. Resented that it might be focused on someone else. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you for your honesty. And it’s understandable.

” Her tone is far more gentle than I deserve, and I love her for it, just a little bit.

“Jealousy is a natural expression of desire. But you need to understand the difference between experiencing your feelings and acting on them. You have no right to poke me and manipulate my reactions when you’re feeling needy or insecure.

Not without my say-so. And not without agreed-upon boundaries. ”

I am instantly ravenous to know more about these “boundaries” but think better of asking. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”