The hallway feels colder when I leave her. I keep walking, slow and steady, because if I stop, I might turn around—and I don’t want to see what I’ll do if I do. The taste of her still lingers, bright and wrong. Like a sin I can’t quite spit out.
She shouldn’t have been able to get under my skin like that.Noneof them ever do. I’ve had lovers, victims, marks—every kind of creature you can name—and not one of them’s ever made me hesitate.
But she did.
That mouth, that look in her eyes when she realized I wasn’t teasing this time—it wasn’t fear. It was something darker. Like hunger, or recognition. I drag a hand through my hair, laughing under my breath. “Fuck,” I mutter, the sound too soft to echo.
I can still see her in my head. Flushed, lips parted, caught between fighting me and wanting me. That perfect little contradiction.
And then there’s the worst part—theguilt.
Not the real kind, no. Not moral guilt. I burned that out of me years ago. This is something different.
A memory of Rook’s expression when he stormed out of that room. The way he looked at her like she’d crawled under his skin and started living there rent-free.
He’d kill me if he knew. Which makes it hard not to smile. Because I can feel it—how fragile this all is now. How one kiss can set an empire on fire.
They think she’s our captive, but I know better. They’re wrong. She’s the fucking match, and every one of us is waiting to burn.
I roll my shoulders, shove my hands in my pockets, and head for the courtyard. Maybe the air will clear my head. Maybe not.
But as the wind cuts through my shirt and the scent of her still clings to me, I know one thing for sure—whatever game she’s playing, I just joined it.
Chapter 24
Ember
The door clicks shut behind him, and I’m alone again.
For a long moment, I don’t move. The room feels too small, too bright, too full of the ghosts they keep leaving behind.
Rook’s scent is still on my lips — dark and smoky, threaded through with the anger he never says aloud. Wraith’s is deeper in memory — the taste of control slipping, of something feral trying to be gentle. And now Vale’s… Vale’s is fire and whiskey, sharp enough to sting.
Three men. Three different kinds of ruin. And I’ve kissedallof them.
The thought makes me dizzy.
I sink into the nearest chair, elbows on my knees, hands in my hair, trying to breathe through the noise in my chest. My pulse won’t slow down. The perfume on my skin smells wrong now — like someone else wore it.
I wanted leverage. That’s all. If I could make them want me, I could buy time. Want is distraction, and distraction keeps people alive.
But that’s not what this feels like anymore. This feels like I’m standing on a wire stretched over fire, and every breath I take pulls me closer to falling.
They’re supposed to be the ones losing control,notme.
I push to my feet and start pacing, bare feet whispering against the cold marble. My reflection follows me in the mirror across the room — flushed cheeks, wild eyes, a mouth that still looks bruised. I look like someone who’s been claimed.
And that terrifies me more than any threat they’ve made.
I stop pacing and press my palms flat against the vanity, forcing myself to look. “Get it together,” I whisper. “You can’t afford this.”
But my voice doesn’t sound convincing.
Because I know what I felt when Rook’s mouth crushed against mine — the crack in his armor, the moment he stoppedbeing the man who ordered deaths and became something human. I know what I saw in Wraith — how he wanted to pull away and couldn’t. And Vale… Vale kissed like he was tasting power for the first time. Like he finally found a secret too sweet to give back.
And somewhere between all of that, I forgot to be afraid.
Now I’m feeling it.
