Page 90 of Queens

Rexton’s face is turning red. I enjoy it more than I should.

“Turn away,” he orders.

I raise a brow. “No.”

“Cassia…”

I blow out an exaggerated breath, then make a big show of turning around. Rexton’s performed in Lust sex shows, for fuck’s sake. Why is he so concerned with me seeing him naked? I’ve seen naked men before, and for the most part, they all look the same.

They have two small man nipples, a belly button I try hard not to look at, and hairy legs. If I’m lucky, they even have broad shoulders and a muscular torso. I also particularly enjoy powerful legs. There’s not even much variance in the pubic region. Once you’ve seen one dick, you might as well have seen them all. They’re fun, but not particularly unique.

I’m offended Rexton won’t let me see his. He saw me naked, and I didn’t make it weird.

Fabric rustles and drops to the floor. I wait until I know Rexton is fully unclothed, then look over my shoulder. Rexton’s facing away from me, in the middle of climbing into the tub.

My breath hitches.

I take a step back and sit, landing solidly on the stiff cot.

Rexton is covered in scars. There are so many of them, too many to count, spanning the entire length of his back. From shoulder to shoulder and down to his tailbone. Are they lashes?The scars are uneven. Some are thin and long. Most are short and thick. Some have flattened and turned silver with age, and some are raised and red.

“I—” I don’t know what to say. “Rexton?”

He ignores me, but he’s tense. He’s noticeably stiff as he lowers the remainder of the way into the tub, and he sinks until most of his back is hidden beneath the porcelain. He’s too tall to disappear entirely within it, though, and most of his shoulders remain exposed.

“I asked you to turn away,” he mumbles.

His voice is quiet. It’s unlike him, and I don’t like it.

“I had no idea.”

Scars like his are unheard of among demons. It’s a miracle the state of his back isn’t already common knowledge, especially after his Lust performances.

“I don’t remove my shirt in front of others,” he says. “I never have.”

I continue staring at his back.

“Who did this to you?”

I’m faintly aware I’m shaking, my power is rolling off me in suffocating waves. I can’t hold it in, and I can tell Rexton notices as he peers at me over his shoulder. His expression is unreadable, guarded and closed off.

How many people know about his scars?

I can’t look away. There are just so many. I can barely see his skin underneath.

I rise from the cot, maintaining eye contact as I close the distance between us. Rexton doesn’t shoo me away, not that I’d listen if he did, and I find myself holding my breath as I place my hand between his shoulder blades.

The skin is rough. I’ve never felt anything like it.

“Your parents?” I ask.

Rexton’s silence is the only confirmation I need. I drop my hand, preparing to teleport. I knew they abused him, but I chose not to read his hospital reports. I didn’t realize the extent of it, and I know their address.

I’m going to kill them.

Back-to-back teleportations will weaken me, but the fuck if I care. First Unit doesn’t truly need me to fight. Aziel and Raum gave me this position out of pity, and murdering Rexton’s family is my new priority.

I hate Rexton and everything he stands for, but he’smineto hate.