CHAPTER 39

However, Darius did not put me in his bed, carry me out of the shower, or wipe me off with a towel out of comfort. As I curl into myself and battle against the chills coursing through my body, comfort is the last thing from my mind.

His smell fills this flat from corner to corner. None more so than the spot where he sleeps every night.

And everything in this flat, including myself, including the blankets and the bed, belongs to him.

I smell like leather and cedar right now, plus that intangible something else that would give you the impression that someone was wealthy without them having to utter a word. His linens are heavy with

smells that cling to me. Alongside the despised man I stand next to, there's a hateful stench.

He runs his hand down the middle of my back and up my spine, brushing aside my long dark hair, still moist from my icy shower. Felix's whips left me with a lot of scars, so I'm not sure which one he's tracing, but I'm quite sure it's one.

"I should give you thanks f