Page 126 of Hellbound

She walked the opposite way till she reached Bohdan’s door.

Ksenia tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned closer to the lock, her trusty hooked awl jammed into the hole, prying, poking, and prodding until she heard a soft click.

She slunk into Bohdan’s darkened room, the curtains drawn except for a thin beam of light that broke through the center.

His quarters were utilitarian but still luxurious.

She strode languidly to his gargantuan bed, winding her hand around a post. The silken bedding was dark as midnight and perfectly made, down to the folded covers and fluffed pillows.

If not for his lingering scent, she would not have thought the captain lived here.

She dove onto his sheets, stretching out like a cat on her back. His smell pillowed her delightfully as the silk sheets slipped over her skin.

She rolled onto her front and took a deep inhale. Intoxicating, wine-dark, silvery.

She couldn’t wait to tear him to pieces: first his body, then his mind. But to do that, she had to find something to use against him…

Reluctantly, she dragged herself from his bedding, now slightly rumpled.

She bit the tip of her glove, pulling it off as her eyes scanned the room.

She traced his bookshelves and ran her finger underneath the lip of his desk, searching for anything that would reveal a weakness in the perfect captain’s facade.

She came up disappointingly empty, with not even a speck of dust to show.

She rubbed her fingers together. Everyone had secrets. And this bastard prince was too uptight to have only a few…

Perhaps…there? Vornaya suggested, directing Ksenia’s focus to his closet.

She opened his wardrobe, filled with crimson uniforms, elegant attire for royal dinners, and more casual clothing.

An errant sleep tunic lay on the floor.

She tsked, then draped it over her arm.

She rifled through the fabrics and pressed her hand against the wooden paneling at the back.

Click.

A wicked smile twisted her lips as a hidden panel depressed and then slid to the side, revealing a shallow hiding spot inset in the wood.

A lusty euphoria clouded her mind as she pulled a worn leather-bound journal from the depths, biting her lip.

She could spend a little more time.

Ksenia drew a steaming bath for herself, mixing her favorite oils and soaps from his personal collection.

She stepped out of her stifling dress and into the water’s caress.

With a gentle hum, she traced a finger along his well-manicured writing.

The words documented his personal critiques of his sparring lessons and continuous combat training, along with improvement plans. Ksenia thumbed through the dry, repetitive pages.

He only looked effortless because the effort had long since been buried somewhere no one was meant to find.

And she wanted to find it.

Her teeth almost drew blood as she flipped to his most recent entries.