Page 21 of Possess Me at Midnight

“It’s just… Bram has practically raised me. I owe him everything.”

Ice clenches his jaw but nods. “Of course.”

Right then. Time for a change of subject. He isn’t one for chatter, clearly. Tonight, I ache to purge my fears and feelings. Exhaustion and dismay for my brother and the others overwhelm me. All my support…scattered to the winds.

A glance tells me that Ice still watches me, his stare unblinking. What the devil is he thinking?

He shifts closer, and the towel parts, leaving one powerful thigh—and the dark shadows in between—exposed. I try not to stare. But the dusting of dark hair on his thighs looks denser at the top of his leg, and I find myself insanely curious about what he has under that towel, if all of him is that large.

Heat creeps up my face. Damn. I feel myself turning ten shades of red.

“Do you…um, need to finish your shower?” I look anywhere but at him.

The fire crackles. The air stills. The silence deafens. My mouth turns dry.

“No.” He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Are you all right?”

I tear away from his grasp. Times are serious. Desperate. I have no business staring, no matter how much my eyes fancy the visual candy. “Fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He’s brutally blunt. Then again, everything about him is. Hair, manner, stare, words—all of it no-nonsense. I need to adjust, remember he’s no diplomat, nothing like the Council members I’ve dealt with of late. Clearly, Ice is used to rolling up his sleeves and accomplishing whatever he sets out to achieve.

“Don’t push,” I shoot back. “I’m not important now.”

“The devil you’re not. If you need something?—”

“I will deal with it.”

His green eyes flash. Then his expression turns flat, cold. He withdraws his hand from mine, that tattooed bicep flexing again, now in anger. “Naturally.”

I hear a wealth of meaning behind that one word. “What are you implying?”

He raises a dark brow. The firelight illuminates his face, and I notice for the first time a slashing diagonal scar through the middle of that brow. In fact, he bears the proof of a nasty gash on the top of his shoulder, and a mark around each wrist. Magickind heals faster and more efficiently than humans. It’s fairly rare to retain scarring for more than a few months. But these wounds look very old, indeed.

“Do my scars bother you, princess?”

Does he think that I would not be in his presence because he isn’t perfect? When it’s his edges I find so fascinating? “I wonder what you must have suffered. I can only imagine the pain?—”

“Don’t.” He shakes his head and leans against the back of the sofa, putting distance between us.

In other words, he refuses to discuss it. His business, of course. But I can’t deny that his snub upsets me. I’m not hurt, exactly. But I sense a deep well of pain, and I have no idea where it stems from. And I hate being shut out…though I’ve done the same to him.

“Do you need anything else?” His gravel voice rakes over me.

“Do you?” I can’t stop myself from reaching across the sofa and laying my fingers on his arm. After all he’s done for me and my brother today, the least I can do is ease his pain. But when I open my senses to send him joyful and peaceful thoughts, he rips his arm away and stands.

“Stop with the siren shit. I don’t need you to force happiness on me, princess. I’m just fine.”

“I-I’m sorry. I simply thought… I brought up something painful, and?—”

“I didn’t grow up with rainbows and sunshine. I don’t need them now.” He takes a deep breath, then another, staring down at me.

I feel instantly contrite. “I’m sorry.”

He sighs, and the anger seems to drain from him. “So am I.”

With that obscure apology, he pivots away and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.