Page 8 of A Cruel Kindness

It got worse with every slow, measured step he took towards me. My brain was so muddled, it took me a second to understand that it was him.

It had to be.

For fuck’s sake, this couldn’t get any worse.

Shoving down the urge to abandon all formalities—oh, and the fact that he’d probably snap my neck if I got anywhere near him— and shove my face in his chest, I straightened my spine and prepared myself to speak the first words to my Soul Mate.

A man I hadn’t seen since I was eighteen and watched him get dragged away, kicking and screaming, towards the front lines of this war.

The entire room seemed to be in as much anticipation as I was, watching in rapt silence as Soren, oldest son of House Rystrom and former heir to the Empire, walked toward me with nothing but a plush white towel wrapped around his waist.

I stayed still, holding my breath, as he approached, shamelessly looking me up and down. It felt like there was a spotlight blasting down on us, with everyone watching from the stands.

“Bell.” His voice hit me straight in the chest, as burning and slicing as a bullet.

The only thing I could think to do was slam up walls around my body before his voice tore them down. The way I’d been trained to do so was with a calm smile and an easy disposition. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a storm brewing beneath the surface, just that I contained it to clouds and a soft rain rather than a hurricane.

“Don’t call me that,” I said calmly, keeping a smile on my face. Though every instinct was screaming at me to abandon manners, I still had appearances to keep up. Save Soren, everyone in this room expected me to be a poised, graceful princess.

Soren’s eyes flashed, the blue in them turning icy. His lips tugged to the side, revealing a pair of long dimples. Fucking hell, those were new too. “And say Bellamy? That has too many fucking syllables.”

“You have a big mouth,” I said, looking down at his lips. Maybe I’d said it to provide an excuse for why I couldn’t really pull my focus away from them. His voice felt like it was lulling me into submission with every word that dripped from his lips. It was only natural to look to the source for explanation. “Put it to good use.”

“You have no idea how useful it can be.” Oh God, why did he have to say that? Why did he have to grow into someone charming? Someone with a quick wit? I really needed to hate him.

“Oh,” I said, smiling through the word. Hopefully that would distract from the fact it was really more of a breathy sound. “I’m sure it would make a great place to practice some needlework.”

Soren’s lips twitched again, threatening to pull into a smile. Despite how steady he stood, impossible not to with such thick muscles, it seemed like he was slightly tense. “Don’t flirt with me.”

I took a step closer to him before I knew what I was doing. “If I was flirting with you, you’d know it.”

Soren scoffed, shamelessly dragging his eyes down my body, covering every spot where my dress stretched over it. “A lot has changed,” he said, right when his gaze connected with my chest.

“Six years,” I replied, instead of doing what I preferred and let my knee connect with his groin.

It seemed to click then, the reminder of who I was to him. His smirk dropped into a hard, unforgiving line as his eyes bore into mine. “Six years too soon. I could have done without ever seeing another member of your family again.”

I pushed my lips into a pout. “Still upset?” I had to feign ignorance. Admitting that I felt guilt every day for what had been done to him wasn’t an option. Especially when I could do nothing about it. Not now.

This time, Soren stepped closer, making me tip my chin up to keep eye contact as forcefully as if he’d placed his hand on my jaw and done it himself. “Wouldn’t you be?” I would. But, again, that wasn’t getting shared.

“No,” I said, clenching my jaw, hard.

Soren grinned again, bending down so that our faces were inches apart. Whatever he was about to say, he was going to place the words so close to me I had no choice but to hear them. “I don’t believe you.” I could feel my eyes widen in indignation, a retort building on my tongue. Unfortunately, my stomach chose that very moment to rumble loudly, angry that I’d neglected to feed myself for so long.

Soren’s nostrils flared as his eyes went wide with … rage? He must have turned into a real piece of work if my stomach interrupting him was so heinous, he considered it a personal slight. “What was that?” he bit out, his jaw barely moving enough to let the words out.

“My stomach,” I snapped back, lifting my chin even further towards his stupid face. “In case you forgot, it takes seven hours to get here from the nearest post. No stops, no food.”

Something in my answer seemed to make him even angrier. He breathed out through his nostrils slowly, like a dragon expelling hot air. He looked over my shoulder at someone, which only served to remind me that we weren’t alone. We were in front of half the outpost, and I’d been proceeding like we were in private.

Before my cheeks could color with embarrassment, Soren’s head whipped to the side. My eyes followed his to find a younger man, clearly freshly drafted, walking by several feet away. He was in the process of opening what looked to be a nutrient bar, a recent gift from the Emperor to solve the pesky little problem of losing hours of work when soldiers had to stop and eat three times a day.

“Oi,” Soren barked at the kid, ushering him over. In a clear sign of where Soren stood in the hierarchy of this place, the young soldier immediately walked over to us, pale in the face.

“Give me that,” Soren said, snatching the bar from the kid’s with one hand, then ushering him away with the other.

“That wasn’t nice,” I said as Soren watched the kid walk away.