Even if I wanted to escape... I can’t.
The Nightrose, its petals finally snapped shut.
And the worst part?
It's evenbetterthan my fucking nightmares.
Pressure builds on my back as his fingers curl tighter, dragging me closer. Every inch of him presses into me.
Heat sparks low and races up my front, licking every nerve awake until my breath hitches and something deep inside me breaks loose.
Control—gone.
Nerves knotted so tight I can’t tell where rage ends and seditious hunger begins.
His scent wraps around me as he shifts—utterly in control, each movement of his mouth over mine deliberate and exact—while my heart just stutters, body slips, betraying me, giving in to him as my head tips back on instinct.
I brace my hands against his chest, heat radiating through the thin barrier of his uniform, muscle shifting under my palms with a restrained power that makes my heart trip.
My fingers curl into the soft fabric, gripping for balance and then a slow breath shudders through him, ghosting over my lips, soft, unsteady, and something shifts.The tight coil in his body unravels an inch, and his grip falters, just slightly, melting to a lingering drag, and instead of pulling me,he leans in.Erasing the last space between us.
So close now, fuck, I feel himeverywhere. My heartbeat finds his, thudding so hard I’m sure he can feel it.
What the hell am I doing? What the hell is he doing?
But the thought evaporates as the kiss deepens, his precision giving way to something different, something more unguarded, and my mouth parts before I can stop it—like a moth, lured into the dangerous softness between us, into the sweet,safepetals of a deadly Nightrose.
For a breath, we hover, mouths open, chests rising, the space between us thick with ache.
Then his tongue brushes mine, gentle, delicious in the way something forbidden always is. My knees give, my heart jumps. Sparks rise?—
And suddenly a jolt tears through me, sharp and blinding.
I stumble and he’s gone before I can blink.
Ripping himself away as if I’ve burned him, he takes two controlled steps back, every line of him rigid with restraint.
Cold slams into the space between us, sudden and punishing. Knees still unsteady, I drag in a breath that barely makes it past my ribs. My lips burn. My skin prickles. Heat still throbs low, heavy, undeniable.
I don’t know what to think. What to say, what to feel. My gaze lifts to his, as if to find answers.
Across from me, his chest rises once, hard, then lowers as his dark hazel eyes find mine, and for a second, something flickers. A hitch. Surprise? No... confusion? It’s the same look he gave me in the tunnels when I took that blunt knife from him. Like he’s studying me, trying to make sense of something that doesn’t quite fit.
But then it’s gone.
His cold mask slams back into place, tight, unreadable and dangerous.
Conversation stutters behind us; a few remaining cadets whisper by the doorway, pretending not to be watching.
I’m still fighting to slow my breath, to drag my heartbeat back under control, to figure out why thefuckhe just kissed me, when footsteps echo closer—Merrin’s and Professor Strannt’s, moving in fast.
Talen glances back at them over his shoulder, then turns to me, stepping back in close.
“If you want to stay alive, Bloom...”His voice a command, no mocking curl, no baiting lilt. Just flat, harsh truth. “Play along, keep your mouth shut andnevertell anyone that was fake.”
Fake?
The word is still ringing in my head as Professor Strannt, the Weasel’s dad, and Merrin appear in front of me.
