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Rowan stares down at the blanket gathered over his legs. “You wouldn’t understand.”

He says it like it doesn’t matter, and I’m starting to suspect Rowan spends most of his life convincing himself he has to handle everything alone.

I lean forward, boxing him in against the headboard. “Then explain it to me.”

His eyes lift, green and guarded again. “You keep asking questions like you’re entitled to the answers.”

“I dragged you out of a chamber at three in the morning after you ignored my messages and nearly cracked your skull open.” I grind down against him slowly enough to make his fingers tremble. “Yeah, little mouse. I feel entitled.”

The flush returns. Rowan looks away, reaching for the coffee just to put something between us. I let him, but his fingers shake around the mug. Every time he breathes, his body brushes mine, his cock twitching in a rhythm he can’t control.

I watch him take a sip before asking, “Who scared you last night?”

That gets me his full attention, and I can’t fucking believe my luck.

One careless question and I’m standing in the middle of whatever Rowan has been trying so desperately to hide.

“You walked into that reception, played a concert that had half the room staring at you, made more of an impression than half the people actually invited, and then disappeared into a storm.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Fuck me. Was there another guy?”

Rowan blinks. “You cannot be serious.”

“I’m trying to understand what happened.”

“After watching every woman in the room throw herself at you and your cousins, you’re asking me if there was another guy?”

A grin spreads across my face. “Little mouse, are you jealous?”

The tips of Rowan’s ears turn pink. “I’m questioning your taste, is all.”

Suppressing a completely justified urge to fist-pump the air, I drag myself back to the actual problem. Rowan blushing is adorable, but it doesn’t explain why I found him half-dead on a stone floor.

My grin fades. “Seriously, Rowan. When I found you up there, you looked terrified.”

He looks away, staring down into the coffee. “The room. The guests. The guards. Everyone watching everyone.” His fingers tighten around the mug. “Your world feels like a place where everyone already knows the rules except me.”

“Then why keep digging?” I study him, the way he looks small and yet defiant pinned beneath me.

Silence stretches between us beneath the rain and the slow sound of Rowan’s breathing.

Then I lean down, my mouth hovering just above the sticky glint on his throat before I lick the juice from his skin.

Rowan’s head falls back, the mug nearly slipping from his hand. I catch his throat and force his gaze back to mine, pressing against him just enough to drag a broken breath from his mouth. For a second, I keep him exactly where I want him.

Fuck, I love the way he pants, the way his body shudders each time our bodies connect.

“Don’t take me for a fool, little mouse,” I murmur, then drive my hips against his again, forcing his focus to stay on the heat between us. “You disappear in the middle of the night, sneak through restricted parts of the academy, nearly kill yourself chasing whatever this is, and then expect me to believe you just got lost?”

He twists beneath me like he’s actually considering making a run for it, one hand pushing weakly against my chest.

“Uh-uh. Whatever you’re thinking is not gonna happen.” I pinch his jaw between my fingers and jerk his head back up. “Playtime’s over, mouse. Tell me what you’re looking for.”

Rowan glares at me a second longer, chest rising sharply beneath me like he’s still debating whether to fight or run.

Then something in him gives. His eyes flick away, and I find myself staring at his lips, eager to find out what he’s going to say next. If he lies again, I swear I’ll punish him here and now, concussion or not.

His cock jerks when I press him deeper into the mattress, encouraging him to take his time but hurry the fuck up.

Then his gaze drops, and he murmurs, “It started back home.”