I turned as she walked across her room, my eyes following her naked, lean-muscled form as she grabbed her garbs off the large, clawfoot chair. I watched without a hint of lust or longing, not craving her as I once had eons ago. What I’d done in this room with her had been out of survival, duty, and perhaps a belief that I deserved it. Maybe I did deserve her after the way I had betrayed my family. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat, refusing to reveal the disgust I felt for myself.
