“Your secret is safe with me.” I smiled at him. “So where is Morrigan now? In your dungeon? You didn’t kill her, did you?”
“No. She escaped,” he said. “But she confessed everything. She wasn’t happy I chose you. She wanted you gone. She thought if you were dead, I’d turn to her.” His gaze held mine. “I need you to know there was never anything between us.”
“I trust you,” I said.
His throat moved. Emotion stormed in his eyes, like my trust meant everything.
“And I’m sorry she failed you in the end.” I understood that betrayal. Morrigan had been at his side longer than I had. “What will you do about her?”
“I’ll hunt her down.” The promise in his voice was colder than ice. “When I find her, she won’t live. Betraying me is one thing, but betraying you?” He shook his head. “That is unforgivable.”
“She isn’t our priority now, though,” I said.
“No.” He took my hand, threading our fingers together. “My priority is you. Always you. Keeping you safe.” His thumb stroke circles on my wrist. “And you need to know there’s a trial coming for all students.”
Dread pooled low in my stomach. “What trial?”
“Officially, it’s supposed to weed out the weak.” His eyes held mine, grim and furious. “But you’ll be the primary target.” He never sugarcoated things. “Our enemies will use it as an opportunity to finish what they started.”
He shifted closer, his hand rising to cup my face. “Dante and I will train you. As soon as you’re recovered, we begin. You need to be ready, love. You need to be able to protect yourself when I can’t reach you in time.”
The unspoken words hung between us:Like today. Like every time before.
I nodded to show him that I understood the weight of what he left unsaid.
And I had an advantage our enemies didn’t know about—I’d stolen my threads. I was no longer bound by the Fates’ machination.
I was writing my own story now.
After he finished washingme with tender care, he helped me stand. Water and rose petals streamed from my skin back into the tub. His gaze darkened, hunger replacing fear.
Then he kissed me.
It started tender and quickly turned desperate. His hands roamed my skin, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us. I melted into him, feeling the hard planes of his body through his soaked shirt.
The silk clung, outlining every hard muscle. I could feel his heart hammering against my chest, could taste his male need on his tongue as it swept into my mouth.
“I need you.” He growled the words against my lips, the sound vibrating through me. “After today, after nearly losing you, I need to be inside you. Need to feel every inch of you.”
“Fuck me however you want,” I breathed.
His eyes smoldering, my pulse spiking, my need responding to his.
He lifted me from the tub in one smooth motion and carried me to the vast bed. The silk sheets were cool against my heated skin.
He stood before me and, with a silent snap of his will, his soaked clothes vanished.
I’d seen him naked thousands of times, and it still stole my breath. Every single time.
He was carved from bronze marble. A broad chest narrowed to a defined waist, his abdomen sculpted enough to cast shadows in the low light. Scars mapped his body, some old and faded to silver, others newer. Each one a love story to me. Each one a testament.
And his cock, already hard and ready, jutted thick and long from the dark hair at his groin.
“I crave you,” he said, his voice thick with need. “Always. It’s never enough. Will neverbeenough.”
He joined me on the bed. Our bodies collided— hands grasping everywhere at once in desperate hunger.
His mouth found my breast, his tongue circling my nipple until it peaked, hard and sensitive. His teeth grazed the bud, sending sparks of pleasure-pain straight to my core.
