Chapter 13

"Aika?"

I stirred at the sound of Archer's voice, sensing that he sat on the edge of my bed from the heat radiating off of his body. "Please don't be mad at me."

It was all I'd thought about between fitful bursts of sleep, how much he'd lost, due in no small part to me, and the weight was enough to make me feel like I couldn't breathe. He had every right to hate me - for both what my baba had sold, and what I still planned to do with it - but that thought alone made it all so much worse. He was good and kind and didn't deserve to be hurt like this.

"I'm not mad at you." He sighed as he flipped a lock of my hair over my shoulder, his fingertips lingering on my flannel-covered arm to draw lazy circles.

I became aware of each of them, the strength and heat behind the touch, and suddenly I wondered what it would feel like on my bare skin. My body warmed at the thought, and an unexpected tingle ran down my thighs.