Page 156 of Godbound
But he doesn’t, and he won’t. That is the line between us, I think. He won’t let himself look until he’s bared all of his secrets.
I slide into the tub, the heat kissing every inch of me, and a moan breaks from my lips. I stretch out my arms along the edge, surrendering to the moment.
Kaelzar sets a folded towel behind my neck with quiet care, and I lean back, smiling despite myself.
A stool scrapes softly against the stone floor, and he sits just behind my head. When I glance up, he’s already producing a basin and a carved wooden dipper.
He catches my questioning look and smirks. “I was prepared in case you’d ask me to stay.”
The deep timbre of his voice drags across my nerves. Then his fingers slide through my wet hair, lifting it out of the water and letting it spill into the basin.
My heart stutters. Is he… going to wash my hair?
“It’s like you’re plucking a chicken before the slaughter,” I tease weakly. “Cleaning the feathers before the kill.”
The joke falls flat. Kaelzar’s sharp look silences me at once and I lift my hands in mock surrender.
“You don’t have to do this,” I murmur. “I’m not so exhausted I can’t wash my own hair.”
“Didn’t you once tell me I’m your Godbeast?” His voice is quiet, almost a growl. “So I should shut up and serve?” He pauses, then adds under his breath, “Tonight… I want to serve you.”
The words strike me like a spark in dry tinder. Heat coils low in my stomach, my ears ring, and the space just behind them tingles with charged anticipation. My lips stretch into a small smile, and it takes everything not to grin outright as I close my eyes and let my head fall back.
“Then serve,” I breathe, the words come out harsh and tremulous. Instinct tells me that as long as his hands are on me, speaking is a mistake.
Warm water trickles over my scalp, over my neck. He begins to soap my hair, and my world tilts. His fingers work in slow circles, kneading my scalp with a strength that feels both reverent and unrestrained.
My head tips left, then right at his command. His thumbs sweep down behind my ears and along the base of my skull, coaxing each muscle to release under his touch. My neck turns to cotton in his hands. Heat snaps down my spine and settles low, sharp enough to steal my breath.
The bubbles on the surface of the water are a fragile cloak. Beneath his touch, I feel naked anyway.
His fingers rake through my hair again and again, and a taut ache blooms in my chest, low and hot. My lips press together, fighting thesounds that want to escape. My body goes slack, giving itself up to the calloused hands that make me feel—gods—so alive.
Then he gathers two handfuls of my hair at the roots and pulls.
Everything shatters. My body arches without my permission, a raw, throaty moan tearing from my mouth. His hands freeze. My eyes snap open. I realize my chest has risen above the water, foam clinging where it should not be seen.
I sink back down, gasping, blinking rapidly. Then I turn to him with a wicked smirk. “If you’re trying to entice me to survive tomorrow, so you can keep serving me like this, it’s working, Godbeast.”
The hunger in his expression vanishes at once, replaced by that same dark weight I’ve seen gathering around him these past days. He retreats, withdrawing his hands.
I catch one before it slips away. “Whatever you’re holding back, you know you can tell me, right? I won’t force you tonight. But tomorrow, once it’s over, once we’ve won, we’ll talk. Okay?”
He says nothing.
I squeeze his hand. “Promise?” I say forcefully.
Kaelzar nods, the surrender in it so pained that I almost lunge from the water to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I give him a small smile he doesn’t return. So I turn and let him finish washing my hair.
This time, the motions are mechanical. When he’s done, he hands me a clean nightgown and robe, turns away while I dress, then tucks me into bed. Then, he lies down beside me, above the covers.
Every attempt at conversation feels hollow, his mind drifting somewhere far from here. Eventually, I stop trying. Tomorrow will be a new day, a new beginning. One I carve myself, with my own rules. One with no more secrets, lies, or betrayals.
And when I step into that new world, he will stand beside me.
Clinging to that image, I let sleep claim me at last, deep and dreamless.
The next morning,I stand before the mirror in my sister’s room.The nerves and anticipation twist together in my gut, making me a bit jittery. Peonica hovers behind me, grinning as though nothing in the world could shake her. She flicks my thick braid, which she insisted on plaiting herself.
