I waited.
It wasn’t long before the door opened, a billow of steam spilling out ahead of her. She paused when she saw me—the disruption of our routine throwing her off balance. She stood there like a broken doll, head bowed.
Waiting.
“Come over here.”
There was only a brief hesitation before she obeyed.
I dug my fingers into the armrest, anchoring myself, stopping the instinct to reach out and touch that smooth, tempting skin. Instead, I drew in a slow, deliberate breath. For once, I wasn’t fighting her scent—only cataloguing it, noting the layers, the care she took.
“Remove my shirt and bend over the bed,” I said, ignoring the sharp snap of her head lifting.
When she didn’t move, I extended my hand, fingers spread, then slowly clenched and unclenched them. I traced the hem of my shirt with deliberate slowness.
Only then did she step back—turning to obey.
I reached for my gloves and snapped them on, one by one, taking quiet satisfaction in the way she jolted at the sound.
Fenrir hummed in approval at the sight of her—already bent, already still.
She wasn’t a woman I paid.
Not a scent I merely tolerated.
She was the only one who had seen what I was and remained where I put her. The only one who didn’t flee—not because she couldn’t, but because she didn’t dare.
That obedience awakened something I’d never needed before.
Something I had no intention of denying.
A dangerous convergence.
A rare one.
And entirely mine.
Chapter 18
Lielit
I lay on the bed, fighting to steady my shallow breaths.
The gloves meant touch.
I braced myself for it anyway.
It didn’t stop my heart from stuttering, or my fingers from clutching the bedding until they ached. The fabric bunched beneath my grip, grounding me in the only way I could manage.
The image of his monster rose unbidden in my mind—grey fur, blood, teeth.
I’d obeyed. I’d stayed inside the room.
But this—
This was different.
This was new.
