We walked through another corridor, this one narrower and dimmer. I could see cameras mounted in the corners, their red lights blinking. Recording everything.
Finally, we stopped in front of a heavy wooden door.
“Your chamber, Miss Calloway,” the attendant said. He opened the door and stepped aside.
I took a deep breath and walked in. The room was smaller than I'd expected, but still beautiful. More torches flickered in bronze sconces, casting warm light across the marble floor, and in the center stood an altar. Not for sacrifices, but for... another kind of ritual. It was draped in white silk and strewn with rose petals; almost romantic if not for the cameras mounted in the corners above.
Three cameras. All aimed at the altar. All recording. And there, standing beside the altar, was Julian.
When his eyes met mine, something tightened in my chest.
“Violet,” he said. Just hearing my name in his deep voice made my pulse quicken.
The door closed behind me with a soft click, leaving us alone… except for the cameras.
Julian took a step toward me, his expression unreadable. “You know what’s expected here.”
I swallowed hard, unable to look away from him. “Yes.”
He glanced up at the cameras, jaw tight. “We don't have to do anything,” he said. “We can fake it. I'll make sure the angles work, that they can't tell. You'll still pass the trial.”
I blinked, certain I'd misheard him. “You... you’d really fake it?”
“I told you I'd respect your boundaries,” he said, stepping closer. “And I meant it. I've stayed away for a month like you asked, and I'll keep my word now. We can make this look real for the cameras without...” He gestured vaguely between us. “Without doing anything you don't want to do.”
A month ago, I would've jumped at the offer. Would've been grateful for the out.
But now...
Now I'd spent four weeks dreaming about him. Four weeks wondering why he'd stayed away when I'd expected him to break his word. Four weeks of that traitorous part of me missing the intensity of his gaze, the possessive way he touched me, the way my body responded to him despite every logical thought in my head.
“Violet?” His voice was gentle but laced with concern. “We should decide soon, or they'll get suspicious about why we're just standing here talking.”
The truth serum was still humming in my veins, making everything feel more honest, more raw. Making it impossible to lie to myself. And the honest truth was...
I didn't want to fake it.
My body was staging a coup against me, just like it did in the forest during the Selection hunt. I wanted Julian to claim me again. I wanted him to touch me everywhere. Fuck me senseless. Force me to come, over and over.
“No,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Julian went very still. “No?”
“I don't want to fake it.” The words came out before I could stop them, before I could overthink or talk myself out of it. “I want... I want this to be real.”
Multiple expressions flashed in Julian’s eyes at once; surprise, heat, and something fierce and possessive that should've scared me but made my stomach flip instead.
“Violet.” My name came out rough, almost broken. “I want you so fucking badly… but you need to be sure about this. You're not yourself right now, and I don't want you to do something you'll regret.”
“I'm sure,” I said, and I was. The elixir hadn't created this desire. It had just stripped away my ability to deny it. “I've been sure for a long time now. I just… I couldn’t admit it.”
He closed the distance between us in two strides, his hands coming up to frame my face. “Once we start,” he said, his voice low and intense, “I don't know if I'll be able to stop. I've been thinking about you every day for a month, Violet. Every. Single. Day.”
“I won’t want you to stop,” I whispered. “Because I've been thinking about you too.”
His thumb brushed across my cheek, and I saw the exact second his control snapped. The careful restraint in his expression dissolved, replaced by raw hunger.
“Tell me again,” he demanded. “Tell me you want this.”
