Quintus has never once made me feel like I need fixing. Even when he was literally fixing my broken window, it felt like helping, not rescuing.
Later, the dinner conversation swirls around me as I observe him from across the communal hall. He’s at his usual table with Thrax and Cassius, listening intently as Thrax describes some woodworking project.
“Any word from Draco?” Cassius asks quietly.
Quintus shakes his head. “Laura says he’s doing well. Making money with street performances, but…” He pauses, and concern creases his brow. “He was always different from us. More curious about this world than the one we came from. He’d practice coin tricks while watching their television shows, trying to understand both the skill and the culture behind them. I think he left to live among them, not just to learn about them. But I worry he hides a loneliness none of us can quite outrun.”
When someone interrupts with a question about the sanctuary’s security protocols, Quintus answers thoughtfully, giving the query his complete attention.
Other people seek his advice constantly—about practical problems, interpersonal conflicts, decisions large and small. He listens without judgment, offers solutions without condescension, and somehow makes everyone feel heard.
He’s exactly the kind of man I thought didn’t exist. Competent without being controlling. Strong without being intimidating. Present without being overwhelming.
Perfect, in other words. Ideal for casual fun.
Amazing sex doesn’t have to come with dangerous feelings. I’m in control of this—of my body, my choices, my desires. I’ve learned to throw men twice my size and ride horses and stand up for myself.
The rationalization feels solid as I watch him move through the dining hall—helping an older woman with her tray, pausing to listen when Flavius waves him over with some dramatic tale. Gentle humor softens his face, and he gives his full attention to whoever needs it.
But never overwhelming. Never demanding. Just quietly, competently present in whatever way people need him to be.
Which means he’ll probably be exactly what I need him to be, too—a partner for mutual pleasure without expectations or complications. Someone who can make me feel good about my body and my desires without trying to control either one.
As dinner winds down and people drift toward their evening activities, I make my decision. No more testing the waters. Time to jump in.
I catch up with him near the exit, timing it so we’re walking in the same direction.
“Would you like to take a walk?” The invitation comes out steadier than I expected, though my heart is hammering against my ribs. “The stars are beautiful tonight.”
He pauses, studying my face with an intensity that makes me wonder if he can see straight through to my intentions. Then he smiles—not the careful, polite expression I’m used to, but something warmer and more genuine.
“I’d like that.”
We fall into step together, heading toward the paths that wind around the sanctuary grounds. The evening air carries the scent of damp leaves laced with distant woodsmoke, and overhead, the Missouri sky sparkles with more stars than I’ve ever seen.
“You were right about the stars,” he says as we walk. “In theludus,we rarely saw them clearly. Too much smoke, too many torches.”
“It must be strange, seeing how different the night sky looks now, between the lapse of so many years and the different geography.”
“Everything is strange. But not unpleasant.” He glances at me sideways. “Some things are quite… pleasant.”
The way he says it, with just enough emphasis to suggest he might be talking about more than astronomy, sends heat curling through my stomach. My pulse stutters, and for a moment I’m afraid he can see everything written on my face. I match his smile before I can stop myself—the kind of smile that feels like opening a door I won’t be able to close again.
We’re heading into uncharted territory now, both literally and figuratively. The path we’re following leads away from the maincompound, toward the more secluded areas where I first heard him sing. Where privacy is possible and conversations can become something more.
My pulse races with anticipation and nerves, but for the first time in my life, I’m taking charge of my own desires. I’m the one initiating, the one choosing, the one deciding what I want and going after it.
It’s terrifying and exhilarating and absolutely addictive.
Whatever happens next, it’s happening because I made it happen. Because I decided I deserved to want someone and be wanted in return.
Because I’m finally alive enough to find out what I’ve been missing all these years.
Chapter Ten
Quintus
She moves beside me through the evening air like music made flesh. I find myself listening to the rhythm of her footsteps the way I once listened to the shift in a crowd’s roar—attuned, alert, as if the sound itself could decide everything.
