Page 152 of Scourged

He froze, a hand in his hair, eyes blowing wide. His shock was … almost humorous, and she didn’t stop the laugh that slipped free from her chest.

Besides, she meant it.

She’d gotten quite skilled in her life at cutting her brother’s hair, and it wasn’t a skill she shared with many. But she knew what she was doing with a man’s haircut, and even with time and lack of practice, she hadn’t lost it.

She’d trimmed most of the length around his ears and neck and cut back his bangs so they no longer fell haphazardly into his eyes. But she’d still left a good portion of the length on top, enough for fingers to dig into.

Enough to grab.

Mariah swallowed, giving her head a slight shake, and brushed away those thoughts.

She’d also found a sharp-edged razor in one of the drawers—where it had come from, she had no idea—and had used it carefully to trim around his ears and neck and face just a little closer.

The result was polished yet roguish.

Perfect.

And standing that close to him while doing it …

She uncrossed her arms, rubbing her sweaty palms on her leggings. He dropped his hand from his hair at the same time, relaxing in his seat.

“Never looked better?” A touch of a smile on his lips. “Tell me more about that.”

“Alright, now you’re pushing it.” She pushed off the counter, striding for the exit. She didn’t know where she was going, but just had the feeling that this moment, whatever this was, was nearing its end.

“Mariah … wait.”

She halted less than a foot from her bathroom door and closed her eyes, clenching her eyelids so tight she saw spots. Mariah drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment before expelling it through her lips.

“A haircut isn’t all you wanted, is it?”

There was a shuffle and the scraping of a chair on marble floors.

“I … No. Well, it was. I needed a haircut. But there’s more.” A pause, his voice closer to her than before. Then, quieter: “With you, there’s always more.”

Mariah drew in another shuddering breath before turning slowly to face him.

Andrian stood in the middle of her bathroom, tall, imposing, yet subdued. Open.

Vulnerable.

He drew in a deep breath of his own, shadows flickering around his shoulders.

“I know you said I didn’t have to beg for your forgiveness. That there was nothing for you to forgive. And maybe you’re right. Maybe there is nothing to forgive. But those scars on your back and the shadows in your eyes say something different.”

Her stomach twisted and knotted around itself. “Andrian?—”

“I’m not finished.” His eyes flashed with intensity and desperation. “You say that instead of begging for your forgiveness, I should beg for your trust. So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. With a story.” He sagged as a bit of heaviness left him. He raked a hand through his hair. “A story … about my mother.”

Mariah blinked, shock spiking through her.His mother?The one he spoke of in the past tense?

The one his father had mocked in that last meeting before their world had flipped upside down?

“I told you that my mother was Leuxrithian. It’s where I got …this.” He lifted a hand, shadows dancing around his fingers. “Growing up, she was—she was all I had. Antoris is a cold place, and you’ve met my father.” He nearly spat the word, lip curling into a grimace. “She was the only thing I loved about living there. The first person I loved.” He met Mariah’s gaze. “Theonlyperson I loved … until you.”

Mariah’s heart hammered against her ribs. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Magic rippled through her veins.

Andrian took a small step closer.