Instead, all I can think about is his mouth on mine.
The memory hits me in waves every time I try to push it away. The heat of Malrec's hand against my jaw. The way he'd looked at me in that suspended moment before he kissed me, like I was something he'd been searching for without knowing he was looking. The taste of him—dark and overwhelming and somehow familiar in a way that makes my chest ache.
I ran. The second he pulled back, the second reality crashed down on both of us and I saw the confusion warring with desire in his ember-gold eyes, Iran. Made some half-coherent excuseabout needing rest and basically fled back to my quarters like a coward.
We haven't spoken since. Not during the final auction negotiations the next morning, not during the long carriage ride back to the estate. I kept my gaze fixed out the window while Malrec sat across from me in rigid silence and Damiros watched us both with that unsettling intensity that makes my skin crawl. Hours of loaded quiet broken only by the occasional necessary exchange about transport logistics or containment protocols.
Professional. Distant. Safe.
Everything the kiss wasn't.
I move through the stable corridors on autopilot, checking each beast's status with mechanical precision. Vexris is settled, her breathing deep and even as she rests in her crystalline enclosure. Sythrak barely acknowledges my presence, too focused on the fresh feeding I left for him earlier. The routine tasks should ground me. Should pull me back into the familiar rhythms of work and responsibility.
But my body won't let me forget.
Every time I close my eyes, I feel him. The solid warmth of his chest under my palm. The way his arm had tightened around my waist like he was afraid I'd disappear if he didn't hold on. The desperate, almost frantic way he'd kissed me—like he'd been starving for it, like touching me was the only thing that made sense even though nothing about it should.
It felt like memory.
That's what keeps circling through my mind, what I can't rationalize away no matter how hard I try. The kiss didn't feel new. It felt like something I'd done a thousand times before, like my body knew exactly how we fit together even though my conscious mind insists we're practically strangers who barely tolerate each other.
Just like the other moments. The flashes of intimacy that slam into me at random—hands on my hips, his body above mine, the sound of his laugh in contexts that shouldn't exist. All of them carrying that same quality of memory rather than imagination.
I press my palm against the cool stone wall, trying to steady my breathing. This doesn't make sense. None of it makes sense. I have gaps in my memory, yes, but notthatkind of gap. Not years of missing time that could account for a relationship with Malrec Virex that I somehow forgot.
Unless I did forget. Unless something happened that made me lose more than just scattered moments. Unless?—
No. I can't go down that path. Can't let myself spiral into theories that have no evidence beyond confusing physical responses and dreams that feel too real.
I need to get back to my quarters. Need to sleep and reset and figure out how to face Malrec tomorrow without this constant pull threatening to drag me back into his orbit.
The walk from the stables to the servant annex feels longer than usual. My legs are heavy, exhaustion finally catching up after days of heightened alertness and emotional turbulence. The corridors are quiet at this hour, most of the estate already settled for the night. Just the low hum of containment wards and distant sound of nocturnal beasts shifting in their enclosures.
I'm almost to my door when it hits me.
Not a flash this time. Not a brief impression or fragment. A full memory that slams into me with physical force, dropping me to my knees as the world around me dissolves.
I'm in the private study—Malrec's study, though I know this without having to think about it. The space is familiar in every detail: the dark wood desk cluttered with containment reports, the rune-lit lamps casting amber light across stone walls, the scent of sulfur and ash that clings to everything in the estate.
But it's different somehow. Warmer. More lived-in. Like it's become a shared space rather than just his.
I'm sitting on the edge of the desk, a binding manual open beside me though I'm not really reading it anymore. Just waiting. My body knows he's close before I hear footsteps—that magnetic awareness that's become second nature, pulling at my attention whenever he's near.
The door opens and he's there. Malrec, but younger somehow. His face less hardened by whatever weight he'll carry later. His ember-gold eyes finding me immediately, warming with something that makes my chest expand.
"You're still awake," he says, closing the door behind him. There's no surprise in his voice. Just quiet pleasure, like finding me here is exactly what he wanted.
"Couldn't sleep." I set the manual aside, watching him cross the room toward me. "And I knew you'd be working late anyway."
He moves into the space between my legs without hesitation, his hands settling on my hips with the easy familiarity of someone who's touched me like this countless times before. The contact sends warmth flooding through my system, but it's comfortable warmth now. Safe. Home.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his thumbs tracing small circles against my sides through the fabric of my shirt. "The new acquisition required additional containment modifications. I should have sent word that I'd be delayed."
"I'm not upset." I reach up to cup his face, feeling the slight roughness of stubble beneath my palm. "I just missed you."
Something shifts in his expression. Softens. His eyes search mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch, like he's trying to memorize every detail. Like he's seeing something precious.
"Lenna." My name comes out rough, weighted with emotion he's still learning how to voice. "I need to tell you something."
