Heat flares between us, hers, mine, the banked fire throwing soft light over everything. I keep my hands where she can feel the steadiness of them, not the rough want that surges next.
"Don't talk about yourself that way again," I say, palms sliding up to cup her jaw, thumbs at the hinge where strength lives. "Promise me."
She doesn’t answer. She rises instead, closing the inch of air between us, and presses her mouth to mine.
The first brush is soft, light like she’s still unsure of herself. I open to her and she deepens the kiss, and the careful part of megives way to the part that has been waiting since the moment I met her. My fingers dive into the silk of her hair, and she makes a sound that drags through my chest.
Her phone pings from somewhere in the kitchen, the sound cutting through the haze of lust like a knife.
"Ignore it," she breathes, her fingers tangling in my hair, trying to pull my mouth back to hers.
But training kicks in, and I resist the pull of her hands.
"It could be your mother with news," I say, reluctantly pulling back. "You haven't heard from her in days."
Her face falls slightly. "I haven't heard from her at all, actually. Only Caroline."
The ping sounds again, then is quickly followed by another and another. With obvious reluctance, she gets up, wrapping the sheet around her body to walk all the way to the kitchen. I follow, not bothering to cover up, and watch as she retrieves her phone from the counter.
The color drains from her face in an instant, and her eyes widen in shock.
"Oh God," she whispers, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. "Oh God, no."
“Rona, what is it?” I ask, alarm bells filling my brain.
“This can’t be happening,” she whispers, her fingers moving so fast over the screen they’re almost a blur.
“Rona.” I repeat her name, my voice low, like I’m trying to soothe a frightenedkitten. “Give me the phone, now.”
She whimpers but doesn’t look up at me, so I reach for the phone, prying it from her trembling hands with a soft but firm motion. When I flip the screen toward me, what I see makes rage fill my vision like a red tide.
She’s looking at her Asterion account. Her Asterion account, where her entire life has been put on display. Every private photo, every personal text message, every email she's ever sent or received has been shared in public posts. Her entire digital life, laid bare for the world to see and judge and tear apart.
The violation is complete and devastating. Photos and selfies, private conversations with friends, even medical records. All of it is available for public consumption. The comments are already pouring in, shares multiplying in real time as strangers devour her privacy like vultures picking at carrion.
Rona collapses onto the floor, sobbing into her hands as the magnitude of the attack becomes clear. This isn't just about the fake video anymore. Someone is systematically targeting her.
I watch the numbers climb, views, shares, comments, and my hands shake with the effort of not crushing the phone in my grip.
"Your phone was hacked," I tell her, my voice deadly calm despite the fury burning in my veins. "And I know exactly who to call to figure out what's happening."
Because this level of cyberattack doesn't happen by accident. Someone with serious resources and technical expertise has declared war on Rona Quinn.
And they just made an enemy out of an ogre in the process.
Chapter Fifteen
Rona
Darhghasgonetomeet his contact in cybersecurity. He took my phone with him.
I want nothing to do with the cursed thing anymore, anyway.
The whole day passed in a slow blur. It feels like I’m standing in the eye of the storm, just waiting for things to start going south. For my life to crumble all around me.
I still haven’t talked to my mom. She called Darhg and he explained the situation, but she didn’t even askfor me. Guess it shouldn’t surprise me. It shouldn’t hurt me, either, but here we are. It hurts so bad I can barely breathe.
The fire crackles in the fireplace, throwing dancing shadows across the braided rug where I sit cross-legged, staring into the flames. Outside, snow falls in a soft, steady sift beyond the frost-haloed windows, turning the world into a muffled white cocoon.
