Sighing, he reached inside the fridge and pulled out her orange juice. He opened the top and almost had the container to his lips before he remembered that it wasn't his and this wasn't his place.
The vicious side of him told him to go for it and drink it, she'd never know, but he didn't listen to that voice.
He went to the cabinet and pulled out a glass, then poured it full.
Astrid could only hear faint tell-tale signs that Zarek was still in the kitchen. He was so quiet that she had to strain just to make sure.
Walking forward, she headed for the sink. "Are you hungry?"
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) Out of habit, she reached out—and brushed her hand against a hot, naked hip.
It was smooth, inviting.
Scintillating.
Stunned by the unexpected sensation of her hand on his bare flesh, she lowered her hand down his leg before she realized Zarek didn't have any clothes on.
The man was fully naked in her kitchen.
Her heart hammered.
He moved away from her. "Don't touch me."
She shivered at the anger in his voice. "Where are your clothes?"
"I don't sleep in jeans."
Her hand burned with the memory of his skin under her fingers. "Well, you should have put them on before you came out here."
"Why? You're blind. It's not like you could see me."
True, but if Sasha were awake, he'd been having a fit over this.
"I don't need you to remind me of my shortcomings, Prince Charming. Believe me, I'm well aware of the fact that I can't see you."
"Yeah, well, count your blessings."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not worth looking at."
Her jaw went slack at the sincerity she heard in his voice. The man she had seen through Sasha's eyes had been more than worth looking at. He'd been gorgeous.
As handsome as any man she'd ever seen.
Then she remembered his dream. The way other people had once looked at him.
In his mind, he was still the wounded wretch that other people had beaten and cursed.
And that made her want to cry for him.
"I somehow doubt it," she whispered past the tight lump in her throat.
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"Don't."
She heard him walk angrily past her, down the hallway. He slammed his door shut.
Astrid stood in her kitchen, debating what to do.
He was so lost.
She understood that now.
No, she corrected herself. She didn't really understand him at all. How could she?
No one had ever dared treat her the way he'd been treated. Her mother and sisters would have killed anyone who dared look down their noses at her. They'd always protected her from the world, even while she struggled to get away from them.
Zarek had never known a loving touch.
Never known the warmth of a family.
He'd always been alone in a way she couldn't even begin to fathom.
Overwhelmed by her newfound emotions, she wasn't sure what she should do. But she wanted to help him.
She went down the hallway only to discover he'd locked his door. "Zarek?"
He refused to answer her again.
Sighing, she pressed her head against the door and wondered if there was any way she could ever reach him.
Any way to save a man who didn't want to be saved.
Thanatos was furious at the order from Artemis.
"Stand down, my ass." He had no intention of standing down. For nine hundred years he had been waiting for this directive.
Waiting for a chance to level the score against Zarek of Moesia.
No one and most especially not Artemis would stand in his way now.
He would have Zarek or he would die trying.
Thanatos smiled at that. Artemis didn't have as much power as she thought. In the end, it would be his will that won the day.
Not hers.
She was nothing to him. Nothing but a means to an end he was determined to claim.
Vengeance would finally be his.
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer (http://www.novapdf.com) Thanatos pounded on the door of the remote cabin. On the other side of the door, he could hear low, panicked voices—Apollites rushing to hide their women and children.
Apollites who lived in fear of anyone who came seeking them.
"I am the light of the lyre," Thanatos said, speaking words only an Apollite or Daimon would know.
Words that were used whenever a Daimon or Apollite sought another of his or her kind for shelter. The phrase was a reference to their kinship to Apollo, the god of the sun, who had cursed and abandoned them.
"How is it you walk in the daylight?" It was a woman's voice. One filled with fear.
"I'm the Dayslayer. Open the door.
"
"How do we know that?" This time it was a man who spoke.
Thanatos growled low in his throat.
Why did he want to help these people?