Chapter 17
Lea stretched out on her bed, every muscle sated and relaxed. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so content. Even the ever-present throbbing in her arm had faded, as if the intense pleasure had chased it away.
Earlier, her mind had felt like Nyx at his most irritable, spiky and hissing and agitated. Now, her consciousness seemed more akin to a languid, purring pile of fluff.
Kallias was already out of bed, packing his things to leave.
He’d sheepishly apologized for ruining her bed linens, spent a few pleasant moments wrapping her in his arms and nuzzling her neck, but then he’d risen, needing to get back to the palace before his absence was noted.
She wanted to ask him if he’d ever considered looking for different employment, perhaps with an employer who didn’t fly into a rage when one woman beat him in a fight, but it didn’t seem like the right time to question him like that.
Kallias lifted his satchel, then paused. “Oh—I forgot. I have something for you.” He withdrew an object wrapped in fabric and tossed it over to her. It landed lightly on the bed next to her.
She frowned at him. “Another gift?”
“It’s not from me,” Kallias clarified. “It’s from the emperor.”
Lea paused, just about to undo the fabric wrapping. “What do you mean, it’s from the emperor?”
“Exactly what I said,” he replied. “I imagine it’s meant to be an apology for the misunderstanding the other day.”
“Misunderstanding?” Lea spat.
“I told you, his moods are…variable.”
Variable. More like erratic. She unwrapped the gift.
Her breath caught when she beheld the items: a pair of greaves for her arms, richly tooled, the swirling pattern embossed with gold paint.
They’d look very fine in the arena with the sunlight catching on the gold, but she refused to allow herself to enjoy them.
This gift, however generous, wouldn’t make her forgive him.
“I suppose you should tell him thank you, from me,” she finally said.
“That would be the polite thing. I’d advise you to wear them for your next match, whenever that may be.”
“At least they’re not from you,” she muttered. “I’d never hear the end of it.”
He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“Your last gifts caused quite a stir. My friends were convinced they were fuck-me gifts. Or something like that.”
Kallias snorted. “I would have gotten you something nicer than glass beads if I were trying to entice you into my bed.”
“Good to know,” Lea said drily.
“You did look very nice wearing my gifts, but…” His gaze ran over her body, still naked, and a covetous gleam lit his eyes. “I prefer the way you look right now.”
His words made her flush, but as she glanced down at the greaves, a nagging sense of wrongness intruded on her good mood. The greaves were a reminder of the gulf between them: she was bound to a life of fighting, while he was at the beck and call of the volatile emperor.
Bedding him was supposed to have been a simple distraction from her anxiety about fighting tomorrow.
Yet somehow, he’d beguiled her into dropping her guard and revealing her deepest desires—the things she’d discovered in the course of her liaisons with Hector.
Her former bed-partner had helped her understand how it thrilled her to choose when and how and to whom to cede control of her body, and even that she craved the sting of pain.
In her life, Lea had suffered more than her fair share of pain, and most of it had been decidedly unpleasant.
There was something strangely soothing, though, about being able to experience pain on her own terms. It became something she could hold in her hands, mold into whatever shape she wanted, rather than something that could overpower her.
“When shall I return?” Kallias asked as he secured the flap on his satchel.
Lea hesitated. She wanted to see him again—wanted more of what they’d just shared—but agreeing to that would turn this onetime pleasure into…something else.
Her uncertainty must have shown on her face. “To check on your arm,” he added smoothly.
A medical visit was easier to agree to. “Friday?”
“Good.” He leaned down to kiss her, and she tilted her face so his lips met her forehead instead of her mouth. With a murmured goodbye, he left.
Fresh guilt joined her misgivings about seeing him again. She wasn’t sure if he’d even want to see her when he discovered she’d lied to him. After the intimacy they’d shared, it seemed like an even greater breach to keep this secret from him.
Maybe she should have confessed. But it would only cause an argument, and nothing he said would change her mind about fighting tomorrow.
The games would be over in a matter of days, and she wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to gain another gift of prize money.
That was more important than anything—even Kallias.