Page 109 of Queens

“Not until you tell me why you want me to wear your dirty clothing.”

“Do I really need to explain myself, Cassia?” Rexton raises an eyebrow. “Have you never been with a man who wishes for you to smell like him?”

No.

Yes.

Not really.

Wren is the only man I’ve formally dated in my adult life, but he never asked that of me. I’m sure he would’ve been highly complimented if I had smelled of him. He loved dating me, loved the attention and proximity to power that came with it.

He never asked me to wear his clean clothing, though, let alone his dirty ones. It’s probably because he knew I would’ve rejected the request. I never fully trusted that Wren wasn’t only with me because of my title and connections, and I kept him at arm’s length.

That decision turned out to be the correct one. Wren is a cheating bastard and walking in on him and that Lust woman is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My life is better without him.

I brush my fingers over Rexton’s clothing.

I’m meeting with Aziel and the generals soon. If I want to wear my own clothing, I should teleport to my apartment now. I might be a few minutes late, but at least I’ll smell like myself. Do I want to smell like myself?

Rexton dresses, pretending not to be paying me any attention. He is. He’s shooting me occasional sideways glances, his black eyes darting between me and the clothing I’ve yet to change into.

I washed the scent of my orgasm off me, removing any traces of what Rexton and I did in the shower. I’m not ashamed of myadult activities, but parading around my father while reeking of sex isn’t something I’m interested in.

I’d be frustrated if he attended a meeting smelling of my mother or fathers. I know it happens. I understand how children are made, and my mother has birthed four of them, but I don’t need to smell the evidence.

Fresh fabric hits me in the face. It’s Rexton’s, and it’s clean. It smells faintly of him, but somebody would have to be directly beside me to recognize it.

“Get dressed,” he says. “It’s time to go.”

I frown. “Don’t rush me. I’m thinking.”

“Think later. We’re going to be late.”

I resist the urge to scream. This is a big decision, and I don’t appreciate being rushed. Rexton and I are bonded—there’s no hiding that—but wearing his dirty clothing is a statement. Letting his scent cover mine is ownership, and I need people to knowI’m in charge.

Rexton owns no part of me.

I set his dirty clothing aside, then slip into his clean ones. He doesn’t acknowledge my decision, and I ignore the guilt that seeps up my throat as I button up his pants and tuck in his shirt. I’m no small woman. I’m tall and strong, but Rexton’s clothing is still large.

I’m by no means swimming in the fabric, but it’s unflattering.

There’s nothing I can do about it now. The opportunity to return home and change into my own clothing has passed, and we need to leave.

“Ready?” Rexton asks. I nod, and he takes my hand, avoiding eye contact. “Can you teleport us?”

My breath hitches. How exhausted is Rexton that he’s asking me to teleport him? I’d rather die than ask somebody to teleport me, to admit to just how drained I am. Rexton brought me tocamp after I was speared, but I didn’t ask for it. I never would’ve asked.

I reach for Rexton through the bond, but his walls remain firmly in place. Is hestillupset with me? Is it because I didn’t put on his dirty clothing?

I squeeze his hand, prodding again at his bond, before teleporting us to Wrath’s headquarters. It’s a quick walk to Aziel’s meeting room, and I’m pleased to see my father and the generals have also showered and changed. I’m not the only one.

Rexton tries to pull his hand from mine before entering the room, but I refuse to release him. I practically drag him inside, scanning for a chair. Everybody is standing, but they didn’t take a spear through the chest. I find a chair in the corner of the room, and I don’t care about the odd looks I’m receiving as I drag it over.

“Sit,” I order Rexton.

He quirks a brow. “Thank you, but I prefer to stand.”

“Sit!” My voice squeaks, and I clear my throat before continuing. “Please.”