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The sharp scent of eucalyptus oil fills the room, and I close my eyes, breathing it in. Sleep can’t come fast enough. After our sexathon, every muscle in my body aches. But I’m painfully aware of how disgusting we both are and how much we need this.

Water splashes as Daemon enters the tub. He wraps his hands around my ankles and drags me toward him until my ass hovers at the water’s edge, my feet and ankles soaking in its delicious warmth. I don’t have the energy to shriek or bat him away when he knocks my legs apart and settles himself between them. But I certainly don’t have the energy for sex either.

Nope. My pussy is closed for business.

When he strokes along my slit, I glare at him. “I have a mortal body, Daemon, necklace or not.”

“Relax, Annie,” he says, staring at me. Well, not at me, but at the red and puffy space between my thighs. “I love watching my cum drip out of you,” he says, his voice a low purr, “and I love pushing it back in even more.” He collects the wetness gathered there on two fingers and presses them into me. God, my traitorous body should not respond the way it does.

I groan, heat spreading across me that has nothing to do with the tub. But we really can’t. I need rest. Hydration. Food. I open my mouth to say as much when Daemon says it for me.

“I know. I know. We’re on a timeout.”

He drags me the rest of the way into the water, and I laugh, wrapping my arms and legs around him like I’m a lemur. He kisses me on the forehead, then makes a show of holding his breath. “Wait—”

But I’m too late.

Daemon dunks us both beneath the suds, and I come up spluttering, batting foam and water away from my eyes and mouth. Asshole. He merely grins, then points to the ledge. Behind me are energy drinks and protein bars—the same gross ones we used to stay up cramming for midterms last semester.

“I was picturing something more romantic,” I joke.

“Maybe next time. We’re still on a ticking clock.”

Right.

Our eternal lives are about to be taken.

“We probably shouldn’t have spent all that time having sex,” I admit.

“Hard disagree. Pun intended.” Daemon winks at me. “If I’m going to be tortured by Salios for the next million years, I’d rather know what that felt like. It’ll give me something to think about.”

I cling to him a little tighter, and lay my head in the crook of his neck. “We’ll figure this out,” I tell him.

Sighing, Daemon strokes the back of my hair. “Of course, we will.” But I can tell he doesn’t mean it. He’s already given up, and with less than twenty-four hours left, I can see why. But seeing doesn’t mean accepting.

This isn’t over.

Daemon and I wash in silence, munching on vanilla protein bars and downing energy drinks that taste like battery acid. We’re nearly finished when my cell phone rings. It’s across the room, buried in that purple dress. But the air is cold, and the tub is warm. Seeing my hesitation, Daemon snaps the phone to me, directly into my hand.

Christopher.

My chest tightens when I see his name flash across the screen. The guilt is almost too much—not for choosing Daemon, but for not choosing him. Light witches only get one mate. He’s probably waited his entire life for me, and I’m in love with someone else. It isn’t fair.

Then again, none of this was.

It takes longer than it should for me to answer. “Christopher? Is everything alright? You were supposed to call back hours ago.”

Daemon stiffens beside me, like he’s waiting for me to take everything back. That’s not going to happen, but I’m also not going to end things with Christopher over the phone—he deserves better than that.

“Things have been… challenging over here,” Christopher says. “I finished the list. None of them have infernal tattoos.”

My stomach sinks.

That can’t be right. He’s mistaken.

For a second, Daemon’s face pales, and then his mask is back on, his expression the same guarded one I’m used to. While Christopher speaks into the phone, Daemon climbs from the tub, water dripping from him onto the plush red carpet. In half a heartbeat, the water is gone, and Daemon is fully dry, readjusting a freshly pressed suit.

“The elders have decided to reschedule the baptism for tonight,” Christopher says. “I tried to delay them, but was overruled. I’ve spent all afternoon doing preparation work.”