“We’ll discuss duties tomorrow,” he replied. “Tonight you rest.”
Rest.She glanced once, involuntarily, at thebed.
His gaze followed the movement and returned to her face.“You’re welcome in my bed whenever you choose,” he said evenly. “You’re not summoned to it.”
The words hit her like a physical touch.She held his gaze, refusing to look away first. “And if I never choose it?”
His expression didn’t shift. “Then you’ll never be forced.”
Silence thickened between them.The air in the room seemed smaller than the space warranted. Her skin tingled with awareness. He hadn’t stepped closer, yet she could sense the heat of him as if he stood inches away.Years of conditioning pressed against her instincts. Men acquired women for use. Men didn’t invest without expectation. There was always a price. Which meant he could force her whenever he wanted, despite what hesaid.
“If you intend to take me tonight,” she said carefully, each word measured, “I would prefer to know in advance.”
His eyes sharpened slightly.“Why?”
“So I can prepare.”
A pause. “Prepare how?”
She stiffened. Humiliation flickered at the edges of her composure. “However you expect.”
“Is that what you weretaught?” he asked.
She said nothing.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
She did.
“If I want you,” he continued, voice direct, “it will be because you want me. Not because you’ve decided submission is safer than refusal.”
She faltered.The statement didn’t diminish the danger in him. It amplified it. Aman who waited for consent didn’t lack dominance. He choseit.
He stepped closer then, not enough to touch, but enough that the distance narrowed to something electric.Her pulse thundered, but she didn’t retreat.
He reached past her, fingers brushing the light switch beside the door. The contact was accidental, barely there, yet heat shot through her like a spark along a wire. The overhead lights dimmed, leaving the room bathed in faint illumination.
“Sleep,” he said. “Lock the door if it makes you more comfortable.”
“Will it?” she asked before she could stop herself.
His eyes held hers, cool and unyielding. “It’ll keep out everyone except me.” He didn’t smile. Nor did he temper the statement. He turned toward thedoor.
“Mr. Severin,” she said. “Sir.”
He paused but didn’t look back immediately. “Call me Magnus.”
She hesitated. “Magnus... If I’m under your protection,” she continued, forcing steadiness into her tone, “what doesthat make me?”
He glanced over his shoulder.“Mine to safeguard,” he replied. “Not mine to consume.”
The distinction settled over her like something heavy and irrevocable.
He left then, closing the door without lockingit.
She stood in the center of the room long after his footsteps faded.The silence here was different. Not the tense silence of Donati corridors where secrets lurked beneath gilded ceilings. This silence seemed intentional, engineered.Safe.
Safe was unfamiliar.
