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My nipples are raw and sensitive to the touch. The insides of my thighs feel electric when they brush. Swollen and puffy, my lips sit differently when I press them together. All evidence of him having been here.

And I haven’t even checked the mirror for the hickeys I know are present.

As stupid as the errant thought is, I can’t wait to get good at this. The idea that the past few days was just the first, that this could continue…

But will it continue?

Maybe I could stay here, and he could come to me for my heats.

The thought of that instantly makes something sticky and shameful bubble up in my stomach. I don’t want to be a secret. Maybe that’s better than I deserve, at least according to society. Maybe I should be lucky for this bond—maybe it was an answer from the moon goddesses after my father died.

A way for me to be cared for. A place to live. Satisfaction, even if not perfectly domestic happiness.

But I don’t want that. After so many years of living on the outskirts and hiding away, checking my locks at night—I don’t want to be a secret. I don’t want to live in a little room somewhere and have Augustus come to me when he needs to.

And maybe it’s wrong for me to feel that way. To want like that.

Heart beating a little too hard, I stand, trying to take deep breaths.

All at once, I’m feeling panicked. Trapped. Like by being with Augustus in this heat, I’ve agreed to a future that I don’t want. I want him to claim me in public. I want to be with him. To be the mother of his children, to be the woman standing at his side.

And that will never happen.

My pacing isn’t working to calm me down, so I pick up the clean nightgown from the dresser—it must have disappeared from this room at some point over the last three days, to be cleaned—and slip it on over my head. I need to dress, to leave this room.

But no.

I shouldn’t just assume that he doesn’t want me. I should talk to him. Wait for him to come back from whatever important meeting he had and tell him what I want. Now that my heat is over, we can properly discuss what happened all those years ago at the club.

We can discuss the bond between us. I can discover whether he truly feels it, too.

And if not—if, somehow, this truly is a false pairing—then I need to leave. It will be far too painful to stay here, around Augustus. To go through heats and know exactly what it feels like not to be in pain the entire time.

I stop pacing and turn back toward the bed. See the empty tonic bottle on the nightstand. That voice in the back of my head—the one with reason on her side—points to it loudly.

Augustus doesn’t want me as the mother of his children. He doesn’t want me to have freedom, and he’s certainly never going to do something as outlandish as stake a public claim on me.

Gathering the nightgown around myself, I take a deep breath and move toward the door. I might not know what to do yet, might not have a clear idea of what the path forward is, but I do know one thing.

I don’t want to be here when Augustus gets back.

Chapter 26 - Augustus

When the door shuts behind Noemi, and her scent starts to fade, I stand from the table and take a plate. It will just go to waste, so I might as well bring it back for Mylah.

I walk through the castle, nodding to the staff, who bow even though I’ve told them dozens of times not to. The door to my room is slightly askew, and I look at the guard placed there sharply.

“What is this?” I demand, gesturing to it with my free hand. Unable to wait, I push through it.

“Sorry, sir,” the guard says, “she wanted to go back to her room—she was escorted by another guard, I thought—”

The panic in my chest subsides. My first thought was that she might have tried to escape again, despite everything that happened between us. It would have been my fault.

I couldn’t bring myself to admit the truth. That we are fated.

But I am going to tell her now. I’m done with my father’s voice in my head, directing me on what to do despite the fact that he’s dead and gone, and wasn’t much of a king anyway.

“Fine,” I relent. Though I would much rather have Mylah in my quarters, which still smell pleasantly of her heat, our scents meshed together, I can go to her in hers. Maybe that would make her more comfortable. “Next time, be sure to let me know.”