"That's very sweet, but I'm pretty sure hypothermia doesn't care about your feelings—"
He sweeps me up.
One second I'm standing on the balcony in ruined heels, and the next I'm cradled against his chest like I weigh nothing, His powerful arms locked around my body with absolute, unshakable security.
"Cyprian—"
"You will not argue."
"I wasn't going to argue. I was going to point out that I can walk."
"You were shaking."
"Because I'm cold and coming down from an adrenaline high, not because I'm injured."
"I do not care."
He carries me through the sliding glass doors into the penthouse.
The warmth hits immediately.
The climate control system has the interior at a perfect seventy-two degrees, but after the freezing rain it feels like stepping into a sauna. My body starts thawing out instantly, the violent shivering easing into something more manageable.
Cyprian doesn't stop in the living room.
Doesn't pause to set me down.
He just carries me straight through the main space, past the kitchen, down the hallway, and into the master bathroom.
The bathroom is obscene.
I've been living here for weeks, but I still haven't gotten used to the sheer scale of it.
The space is massive—easily the size of my old apartment's entire living area. Black marble floors. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. A walk-in shower with multiple rainfall heads. And in the center of it all, a sunken soaking tub that could easily fit four people.
Cyprian sets me down on the edge of the tub.
Gently.
Carefully.
Like I'm made of glass instead of freezing, adrenaline-soaked human.
"Stay," he says.
"I'm not a dog."
"You are shivering."
"I'm aware."
He moves to the tub controls, his hands adjusting the temperature settings with surprising precision. Water starts flowing from the wide spout, steam rising immediately as it fills the basin.
I watch him.
He's still in his formal suit—the tailored black jacket and pants that somehow survived the flight through the rain. His wings are folded tight against his back, the leather membranes glistening with water droplets. His slate-gray skin is darker where it's wet, the amber veins running through his arms and neck glowing soft gold in the dim bathroom lighting.
He's beautiful.
