I traced the edges of the wound with my mouth, letting my tongue gently probe along the jagged edges of exposed skin. My lips followed, continuing to follow the curve of his thumb as the skin knit back together quickly. Thad jerked away and gathered my chains into his hands.

“We need to go.” His voice was rough and husky, thrumming with unspent tension.

I felt odd myself, as if we were both approaching some hidden, yet ever present precipice, and if we weren’t careful, we might fall over the edge. I watched him take his healed hand and open and close it methodically.

It was a silent, awkward trip back from the baths. Thad dumped me in his chambers without a word and promptly disappeared for hours doing whatever he did with the other demons. I ate some leftover bread and fruit he left for me, then dozed in order to escape my spiraling thoughts. I didn’t want to think about the words he’d said, because he couldn’t have possibly meant them, could he? Brave? Strong? Beautiful?

When Thad returned later that night, I was already in his bed half-asleep. I cracked an eye open at his arrival, watching as he sat heavily on the chair in the corner, not even removing his boots. He slumped down against the unyielding wooden chair, and I remembered the sharp tang of his emotions against my nose. Fear. Determination. Loneliness. At that moment, it didn’t matter that he was my jailer, and I was his prisoner. I raised myself up on my elbows, calling out to him before I lost my nerve.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

Thad’s eyes snapped open, his hooded gaze meeting mine without flinching. I swallowed, my brain already screaming that this was an awful, terrible idea. Then again, so had been saying to yes to Benedict all those months ago and leaving the only home I’d ever known.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied gruffly.

See? He even agrees with you! I told my traitorous brain to shut up. “Just get over here.”

For a moment he didn’t move, and we simply stared each other down. Then he exhaled a large puff of air and all of his remaining tension. His shoulders sagged, and he studied the floor. After a moment, Thad leaned over and slowly peeled off his leather boots. His shirt was still damp from the bath, so he stood and brought it over his head, draping it across the fireplace grate to dry. I couldn’t help but trace the contours of his chest muscles with my eyes, immediately drawn to a dark tattoo on his neck that snaked down around his shoulder, kissing his collar bone and ending in a band around his upper left arm. He didn’t take his eyes off me the entire time. I swallowed heavily.

“That’s new.” I gestured to the tattoo.

His eyes followed my gaze, his broad hand spanning the length of the black ink etched into his skin. I imagined my own hand traveling the same path before I viciously shoved such thoughts away. “It’s a way to balance magicks. Too much of one type can have adverse effects. The tattoo helps.”