Chapter Three
Kris
Kristina clung to him as the air around them swirled.
She saw the stream of energy picking up momentum, her fingers tightening at his shoulders when the chill encircled her.
She’d seen the phenomenon more than once before and knew Kronos was taking them to a new location, but with the pounding in her head only just assuaging, she couldn’t face the gravity-defying spectacle.
After goodness knew how long as his captive, she still barely understood anything about the man, or even if he was really a ‘man’ at all.
For a long time, she’d refuted the possibility that he could be anything more, deciding he must have drugged her to have achieved the accomplishments she’d witnessed, but as the coursing energy slowed, the questions lingered.
She’d seen too many things to reject all of them as mere hallucinations.
He appeared and disappeared from thin air, just as he conjured other things in the same way.
Then there were the things that had happened in his absence; the glowing walls in her cell that she couldn’t explain, and the way a single Greek word had not only vanquished glass but exposed her to potentially deadly gases.
Something else had to be happening with Kronos.
Something she might never be able to explain.
Lowering her head, she tried to make sense of everything that had taken place, but the more she contemplated, the less logic she discerned.
Maybe it was only the lack of oxygen clouding her reason, but breathing in the tempting smell of his body, she doubted it.
Yes, she’d had an unexpected run-in with death, and she was sure there would be ramifications from that.
Likely, she’d be more tired than usual, and possibly unsteady on her feet for a while, but the shift she sensed inside herself was larger than only her recovery.
Something had changed since the day Kronos plucked her from the cold street.
The woman she’d been then, who was so full of certainties about her studies and her future, seemed a far cry from the one clutching at his muscular neck.
Curled around him, she was wrung out, like a used cloth, weary with the weight of his rules and expectations, yet simultaneously fired up by the passionate desire he’d motivated.
She couldn’t imagine going back to her old existence and never setting eyes on him again, never feeling the myriad of exciting emotions that he could conjure, yet at the same time, she couldn’t reconcile not returning to the life she’d planned.
Groaning at the paradox, she rested her forehead on his shoulder.
“Little one?” His hand rose to cradle the back of her head as if she were a small child. “What is it?”
“Nothing, Master.” Her head ached with her competing emotions. “Thank you again for bringing me back to life.” “
She stared into his deep hazel eyes, lost in the wonder of who he was and where he had come from.
Everything about him defied the scientific laws she’d been taught.
He shouldn’t have been so tall or strong, let alone able to flout the rules of physics, but face to face with him, she was surprised at how little those things mattered.
They were together again. She was safe, and although she partly feared whatever penalties he chose to impose for her recklessness, there was a hot, needy part of her that was eager to discover what they were.
Increasingly, she believed in Kronos’ word. He’d told her he’d never harm her, and to date, the only one who’d genuinely put her life in danger had been her. Staring into his hypnotic eyes, she could hardly recall why she’d chosen to flee at all.
“I shouldn’t have tried to leave.” Her brows knitted as she registered her words.
Kronos had taken her against her will. He’d held her in that small white room and forced her to comply.
Her resistance to confinement had been totally natural.
What was less obvious, though, was the way he made her feel.
The way a whispered word, a single caress, or even more absurdly, the sting of his palm, had so easily brought her so much peace.
Her defiance was easier to muster when he left her alone, but in his presence, there was room for forbearance.
More and more, her choices were less to do with fear and more about fervor.
Though she didn’t altogether understand why, she wanted to please him.
“I am sorry you felt the need to try.” A glimmer of emotion shone in his eyes and, for a second, she thought she saw real hurt there.
“I…” She hesitated, uncertain what else she could offer to redeem the situation.
She had promised not to lie to him, and indeed, she found she’d prefer not to, so there was no point in spinning him some bullshit narrative about finding the door ‘by accident’ and not meaning to leave.
She had intended to flee, and he knew that. They would both have to deal with the results.
“I know my choice hurt you, Master.” She was relieved to apologize. “But I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking…”
As he settled on the seat of his enormous chair with her on his lap, she lifted her chin, noticing they were back in his cozy parlor again. The dancing flames of the fire coaxed her focus fleetingly to the blaze before he spoke again. The term was more endearing than demeaning.
“I don’t agree, little one.” His gaze narrowed, the gesture tightening the ball of tension in her tummy.
“Oh?” Her voice sounded tiny in comparison to his.
“I believe you were thinking clearly when you decided to leave.” He stretched back on the chair, leaving her bereft and oddly vulnerable without the warmth of his embrace. “You knew what you were doing, and you cared not for the consequences.”
Fidgeting on his knees, her focus fell at the accusation. Later, she might have said it was gravity that took her attention, or her weariness after her recent brush with death, but the truth was, she hung her head out of shame.
He was right. When the opportunity to get away had arisen, she hadn’t thought twice about taking it.
All she’d considered was how she felt about being kept there and that the chance might have been her only prospect for freedom.
Escape was a rational urge, of course, but it belied the feelings that had stirred between them.
“Am I right, little one?” His astute tone told her that he already knew he was.
“I suppose so, Master.”
Suddenly, she wished he’d sweep her back against his chest again.
There was a comfort to being so close to him and not having to meet his eyes.
Without the prison of his touch, she could have climbed from his thighs and even tried to leave the parlor if she’d chosen to, but rather than look for liberty, she instead sought his solace.
She missed having his arms around her. Not only for their warmth and protection, but because of the connection they offered.
His embrace meant he yearned to hold her, and without it, she was cold, despite the leaping flames.
“So, you want to leave me, then.”
“No, I…” She risked a glance in his direction, noticing the tension in his jaw. “I did at that moment, Master, but I don’t feel that way now.”
How could she make him understand the contradiction?
“So, now you want to stay?” His tone was mocking.
“I want to make it up to you, Master.” She frowned at the declaration, but she didn’t regret her words.
Whether she stayed or returned to the small house she shared with Tina and Melanie, she accepted her actions had unintentionally wounded him, and she prided herself on being a decent person. She needed to make amends for any hurt she’d caused.
“Is that right, little one?” There was the taunting tone again, but the resonance did its job, insisting her gaze rose to meet his.
“Yes, Master.”
She pushed her hands together, battling with her guilt. She had to do something to appease him, had to make him realize that while her urge to flee had been natural, she longed to make amends.
“Please, Master.” Pulling in a deep breath, she held his gaze and asked for the one thing she should have wanted to avoid. “I need to be punished.”