I forced all thoughts of him and his bulge out of my head as best I could, as I stared down at the marble floor, desperate for something else to focus on. Do not think about him. “Think of a word,” he said, that deep voice bringing the image forth again. “Any word. And Rykaia will say it aloud.” A word. A word. What word? My head frantically scrambled for a word, as she took hold of my arm. The moment her lips curved to a smile, I knew she knew. “My, my, Maevyth. You are a naughty girl,” she said with an edge of amusement.
