Page 94 of Crown of the Courtesan

But like most things, I tuck away my feelings to sort through when I’m not nude and on the brink of tears in front of the Witch-King.

An awkward silence grows.

We stare at each other for an uncomfortable second more.

“I’ll leave you to—” He moves to exit, the top of his highly defined ass cheeks visible above the steaming ripples of the pool.

I choke and end up snorting water through my nose.

He turns around. “Are you all right?”

Coughing, I nod yes. But the truth is no.

Thankfully, focusing on the moisture glistening on the lowest part of his abdomen—the deep V meeting a dark patch of hair—is a preferable distraction rather than thinking about missing mothers. He dips back into the hot springs, and shadows slip from his body in coiled tendrils. His eyes flick to mine, catching my line of sight before he glides deeper until the water meets his waist.

Mortification heats my face.

Ashland seems to enjoy my awkwardness and chuckles with a dark smirk. “It’s disrespectful to stare like that, my lady.”

Luckily for me, even more distraction comes in the form of two shadow hounds galloping into the hot springs, playing tug-of-war with an oversized tree branch. The sight of the beasts brings me relief as Ashland jokingly reprimands them, but their crashing wave jostles us until our shoulders rub together, our elbows clanking.

Ashland tilts his head toward me. “You smell exhausted.”

“Um, excuse me?”

“One of the benefits of being a witch is select heightened senses, and I can smell the fatigue on you. There’s no use hiding it.”

The shadow hounds are impervious to these casual declarations as they lounge on the steaming rocks, occasionally snapping at the silverflies that try to land on their wagging tails.

“Do you mind not smelling me then?” I refrain from calling him a freak.

“Can’t be helped.”

“Good thing we’re smarter than our urges,” I breathe.

We are silent for a long beat. “I probably shouldn’t have told you about your mother. You are already on edge from all of the untrained magic newly awakened in your veins. It’s making you depleted and irritable. You’ll have to calm not only your spirit but also your body for the power to fall back asleep; that way, you can rest too.”

I begin to roll my eyes but realize he’s right. My muscles are painfully tightened, and the exhaustion I’m trying to mask is, in fact, still very much present. “Easier said than done,” I admit.

“You aren’t even trying,” he scolds.

I close my eyes and breathe, but my head jerks forward involuntarily. My breath catches in my throat as I flinch, overwhelmed with painful memories resurfacing. Clenching my jaw, I mutter, “I don’t think now is the time to try new things. I don’t feel so well after all.” My lips tremble despite my best efforts to still them.

He sinks deeper into the water, swimming behind me until the slick muscles of his chest press flush against my bare back. The pressure sends my nerves into heightened awareness as his arms circle around, creating ripples across the hot spring.

He whispers in my ear, “Close your eyes and anchor yourself to me. Use me as a tether and breathe. Stop thinking and just let the air flow in and out.”

A strange contentment settles in me at the closeness of our bodies. There’s a forbidden air to our embrace and a general understanding that we shouldn’t be doing this, but we stay quiet in our denial as I breathe in and out.

I dare not move for fear of what might happen next—nor am I willing to break the comfort he gives after everything I witnessed in that fire and after learning about my mother. My face turns downcast. Every bad memory that I’ve ever had keeps flooding me like dreams of a nightmare, my sense of time tripping on itself.

Gently, he says, “Otherworld visions aren’t easy. They’re complicated and can leave you feeling drained for hours or even days. It takes the Seers of Devana years to stomach it. That’s why they’re so selective about who can join their coven. I want you to know that I wouldn’t have insisted on you performing the ceremony if there had been any other way, and for that I’m sorry, really I am.”

“How did you know I would be able to withstand it?”

“I have my reasons. Now, hold still.” He grabs me by the waist and pulls me onto a flat, low-set boulder, my tailbone stinging with the impact. The entirety of my body is bare before him, magnolia-white against the moonlight, while I try to cover my breasts with the length of my arm.

“What are you doing!?” I gasp, trying to push him away with my other hand.