Chapter Eight
Kronos
Kristina was quiet. He watched her sitting quietly in the corner of the bathroom, wishing, for at least the fifth time since the faucet had started cascading water into the gigantic tub, that he could just read her mind for himself and discover what occupied her thoughts.
She was at least following his rules. Ever since he’d lowered them to the covers and taken her to the enormous bathroom, she’d been suitably compliant, but it was the silence that troubled him.
The woman he’d taken usually had a question about, and an opinion on, just about everything.
The quiet, though welcome, was worrying.
Turning back to the water, he dipped one hand into the clear depths and checked the temperature.
Even by his standards, the bathtub was colossal, so he supposed he could understand the reticent expression on her face, but huddling against the pile of towels he’d left for them, he was sure there was more on her mind than only a morning dip.
“Tell me about earlier.” He shot another glance in her direction, noting how she hadn’t met his gaze. “When you told me that you couldn’t breathe.”
She swallowed, a visible gesture that seemed to steel her. “It felt like there wasn’t enough air for me, Master. It made me feel really…” Her voice trailed away as though she was struggling to complete her sentence.
“Claustrophobic.”
Despondency rang out in his voice as he answered for her, dejection swelling in his chest. He didn’t like the way her captivity had inspired the fear.
In the past, he’d broken down mortals without a thought for their mental health.
He’d bound and tormented them, sometimes overawing them with attention, and other times, leaving them to stew.
Increasingly, everything about his dynamic with Kristina was different, though.
He accepted that the woman he was growing to adore merited better treatment.
Her chin rose. “Yes, it was a similar feeling, Master.”
The agitated ball of energy in his chest tightened at the news. “And this phobia, have you experienced it before?”
She shook her head. “No, Master. The white room was the first time.”
He blew out a breath, his misery rising to choke him until all he could think about was the consequences of what he’d done. Usually one for rules and repercussions where others were concerned, he was suddenly faced with the outcome of his own.
“Come here.” He beckoned her forward with one hand, peering back to check the rising water level as she rose to her feet and obeyed.
Once upon a time, he might have demanded a woman crawl to come to his heel, but watching his diminutive blonde approach, he realized there was no longer a benefit to the additional humiliation.
There was no doubt about which of the two of them was the stronger, the more powerful, and the more experienced.
He was the one in control, and that meant taking responsibility for the things he’d caused, even if inadvertently.
Casting an eye over her delectable form, he was resolved. Rather than repressing the beautiful flower in his care, he was starting to discover a new and rather perturbing desire to shield her. He could nurture instead of pulverize. He could lift her up rather than crush her.
She stood before him, her large blue eyes as wide as saucers as her gaze flitted between him and the tub.
Her expression told him she’d never seen one as large as his before, and he supposed, from her point of view, it was more of a small pool than a bathtub.
The idea of them bathing together had come to him the prior day, and he was keen to discover the reality for himself.
First, though, he sought to listen to her and reassure.
There was still the matter of her punishment to deal with, but she would be washed and well-fed before that trial began.
“I want to understand this fear.” He caught her jaw with one finger, drawing her focus away from the water and back to his face. “Did I inspire it?”
The furling ball in his solar plexus thought it already knew the answer.
“It was being trapped in the white room, Master.” Her voice was scarcely a whisper. “I’d never experienced anything like it before then.”
He suspected that reply was a polite way of her concurring with him that her confinement had indeed provoked the response.
A pang of something akin to regret echoed in his chest. For so long, he’d felt nothing other than the desire for lust and control that he scarcely recognized the emotion, but he acknowledged it, regardless, accepting its value as he considered how to respond.
“I’m sorry, little one.” Disbelief resounded in his tone, his genuine sentiment melding with his surprise at vocalizing the feeling. When was the last time he’d apologized, especially to a mortal? Had it ever happened before? “I had no intention of traumatizing you.”
He’d lost count of the number of women he’d held there with seemingly no ill effects, but perhaps he just hadn’t paid attention to their trauma. Maybe they, too, had cowered and cried for consolation, and it had taken Kristina, the first mortal he’d ever tangibly cared about, for him to notice.
“I know.” A tentative hand reached for his abdominals, her delicate fingers splaying against his skin.
His recently-satiated cock stirred at the contact, but with her attention on his face, she didn’t seem to discern its passionate dance.
“I didn’t tell you how I felt at first, and I’m sorry, but when I did tell you, you tried to help me. ”
“Hmmm.” He halted the flow of water from the faucet with a flick of his free hand. “I still have to deal with your omission of the truth, don’t I?”
That, and the other not insignificant ways in which she’d breached his regulations since her last reminder of them.
“Yes.” She nibbled at her lower lip. “I know, Master.” Her focus fell, scanning over his torso. “I was wrong not to tell you.”
“Why didn’t you?” His voice was tender, but demanding.
“I suppose I was afraid.” She heaved in a breath, her mesmerizing eyes finally darting in his direction again. “I thought you might use my fear against me.”
He bit back on the smirk that threatened to rise. Evidently, his little one knew him all too well. The Kronos of old might well have exploited a weakness where he identified one, but then she had come along and started pulling his heartstrings instead.
“But you didn’t do that.” She sniffed. “And I’m grateful, Master.”
“You’re welcome.” He stroked his thumb across her skin, marveling at how soft it was.
Hundreds of women had come before her. They’d all been beautiful, too, so what was it about her allure that left him so spellbound?
“I want to say thank you again for everything else you’ve done, Master.”
“You’re thanking me?” He could hardly believe his ears. First, he had apologized, and then she was grateful. Their progress was unbelievable. “Why are you thanking me?”
Not that he chided the sentiment, but in his vast experience, it wasn’t normal for his captive to offer unsolicited gratitude.
“You saved me.” Her smile was sad. “On the street that first night, and then again, yesterday. I should have died, but you brought me back…” She paused, her eyes filled with emotion. “For everything you’ve done to me, you’re still the only man I can say that about.”
His thumb stilled at her error. He was no man—a fact she had surely recognized—but he held back the correction. There was such sorrow in her explanation, and something about it tugged at whatever remained of his heart.
“What of your father?’ he prompted. “He must have cared for you and protected you?”
She pulled in a sharp breath, her eyes glancing away from him for the first time since he’d called her near. “No.”
“No?” His tone was indignant, his mind instinctively already guessing at what the imbecile had done.
His thoughts instinctively flitted back to Shelley, remembering the abuse she’d suffered, and he hoped, for the sake of the man in question, that Kristina hadn’t endured similar.
It had taken all his willpower not to act before, but if Kristina had been victimized, he would have no such compunction where her perpetrator was concerned.
“He left.” Her eyes watered when they met his again. “When I was little. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”
Kronos’ hand shifted along her cheek to cradle her nape. He had once had issues with his own father, and then with his sons, but eons of time had passed since then. He couldn’t understand how any mortal of the current day could knowingly neglect or abuse their child.
“Then he is a fool,” he told her. “He should have looked after you, little one.”
She wiped her tears with the heel of her hand. “Thank you, Master. I’ve done okay without him, it’s just…”
“What?” he pressed.
“Meeting you.” She offered what he suspected was a feigned smile. “You actually showing up for me, even if it is in this place.” She glanced around as though his realm were the Underworld. “It’s shown me what I’ve been missing.”
“Someone who cares.” He hated that it had taken his intervention to reveal what affection could be like.
“A man who cares,” she corrected.
“I am no man, little one.” Tugging her closer, he pulled her flush against him. “But I promise you this. Unlike your father, I am here for you, and I always will be.”