I didn’t know how long I’d been in the bathtub.
My body had still been burning, the fire from that cursed drink licking under my skin, coiling deep in my stomach, leaving me restless and desperate.
The heat was unbearable, spreading through me like molten metal, until every breath scraped my throat raw.
It wasn’t just warmth... it was raw hunger, clawing and twisting inside me no matter how I tried to fight it.
It wasn’t natural heat, it was feverish, wild, the kind that made me feel like my own body wasn’t mine anymore.
My thoughts had been smothered under it, blurred at the edges, leaving me caught in need. My skin tingled as if every nerve had been set alight, and no matter how tightly I curled into myself, there was no escaping it.
But little by little, the icy water stole it away. The sharp edge dulled. The flames dimmed, smothered until all that remained was a creeping chill that settled into my bones.
The contrast was so stark it made me shiver, my teeth nearly knocking together, but I welcomed it. Better the numbness, the ache of cold seeping into my limbs, than that unbearable fire consuming me from the inside out.
My muscles loosened, wrung out from the storm that had ripped through me earlier.
The haze began to clear, lifting like fog under sunlight. The frantic thrum in my veins calmed, and my head finally stopped spinning.
Slowly, cautiously, I opened my eyes.
And there he was.
He stood against the wall across from me, one hand casually tucked into his pocket, his shoulder propped against the stone as if he had been waiting for me to finally regain my sanity. His posture was relaxed, but his presence filled the room, crowding every inch of air until it felt like I was drowning in it.
I was still fully clothed in the tub, but under his gaze, I might as well have been bare.
His eyes stripped me down with quiet ease, leaving no shield between me and him. The damp fabric clung to me in all the wrong places, heavy with water, pressing tight against my skin, and the longer he stood there, the more I felt exposed.
My throat tightened, and a wave of heat rushed to my face.
My eyes widened as soon as I realized everything that happened.
Goddess.
What had I done?
Fragments of earlier moments stabbed through me... how I was so out of myself, how I tried to undress myself in front of Rion, how I had leaned into him, how I tried to kiss him, and how I... how I begged him to touch me!
Heavens, forsake me.
The memory of my own voice, wrecked and desperate, made my skin crawl.
Damn it. I remembered every humiliating detail. It was burned into me now, as vivid as if it were happening again.
For a moment, I considered drowning myself to death in the tub.
The water lapped faintly around me, cold against my skin, but it couldn’t put out the heat surging through my chest and face. The chill of the bath was nothing compared to the burning shame spreading through me now, shame so sharp it felt like it might split me open.
I couldn’t breathe right, not with him standing there. Not with him staring at me like he’d been contemplating what compensation to ask of me for what I had done.
"You’re flushed," Rion remarked, the words laced with lazy amusement. His lips curved into that half-smile I was beginning to hate more, because it always meant he was two steps ahead of me. "Embarrassed now? That’s amusing. You were a little too shameless earlier."
I whipped my gaze back to the water, the ripples blurring with the heat prickling behind my eyes. My throat tightened.
"I-I think you should get out."
"After saving you and helping you out, you will just treat me like that?" His tone wasn’t sharp. If anything, it sounded like he was toying with me. "I’m enjoying myself here, though."
I shut my eyes and pressed my palms against the edge of the tub. Maybe if I didn’t look at him, maybe if I stayed very still, he would get bored and leave.
Of course, that wasn’t Rion Morrigan.
"You know," he drawled, "for someone who clearly wanted me earlier, you’re suddenly acting like a maiden protecting her virtue."
"Shut...up," I muttered, my voice cracking more than I wanted.
"Ah." His chuckle was low, sensual. "That same tone. That’s the one you used when you begged me—"
"Stop it!" My voice rose, and my head snapped toward him.
My hair, damp with steam, clung to my cheek, but I didn’t care. My chest rose and fell too quickly, my pulse thrumming against my skin.
He tilted his head, the grin never faltering, though his eyes had softened. He was studying me, drinking in every flicker of my shame as if it was wine poured just for him.
I tore my gaze away again, looking back at the dull surface of the water. My reflection was warped there, mocking me with wide, frantic eyes.
"So," he said at last, his tone shifting like a curtain being drawn, no longer playful but a little too serious now, which intimidated me, "of all the beautiful places you could’ve gone in the Undercity, you decided to visit a pleasure house?"
That cut through the haze of shame instantly. My head jerked up. "It was Raye who brought me there."
He arched one brow. "Raye." He nodded. "And how did you end up drinking an aphrodisiac?"
"Did that man give it to you?" His voice had lost all trace of humor now.
I shook my head quickly. "No—"
"Pleasure houses serve aphrodisiacs, yes," he continued, cutting me off, "but only to those who ask for it. And I doubt Raye ordered one for you." His eyes, dark red and unyielding, locked on mine, pinning me in place. "So you must have got it from someone else."
His tone darkened on that last line.