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“Morning,” he says, voice gentle, but there’s a hitch in it - like it’s been cleared one too many times. “Just checking in. You want something to eat?”
His collar is slightly rumpled. His scent is a little sharper than usual - fresher. Like sweat, soap, and something recently spent.
I narrow my eyes, but keep it breezy. “I want out.”
His face does a thing. “You… what?”
“Out,” I repeat, strolling toward him with the serenity of someone who has absolutely lost her mind. “Like, outside. A hallway. Literally anywhere that isn’t this overly scented prison of shame and orgasms.”
Theo blinks. “You want to… go for a walk?”
“I want a snack. A stretch. A goddamn window that opens. And if there’s a rogue alpha on the lawn, I will deal with it personally, barefoot and in Kai’s hoodie.”
He looks down the hall like he’s hoping one of the others will magically appear and rescue him. His instincts are pinging - I canfeelit.
Keep her safe. Keep her still.
Hide the knives.
“I should probably tell the others you’re up,” he mutters.
“Tell them I’m reclaiming my civil liberties,” I say sweetly.
He blinks again.
My brow furrows faintly before I smile up at him again, all wide, sweet, andweaponized.
“Please, Theo?” I croon. “Just for a little while?”
Theo melts like cheap wax.
“Just for a little while,” he agrees, already bracing himself for the consequences.
God, I love men. Especially this one.
I’m pretty damn sure Theo would let me burn the entire fucking house down as long as I saidpleaseand meant it.
He leads me out into the hall, and we walk side by side, my shoulder brushing his arm. Everything looks different in the daylight - less ominous billionaire secret lair, more museum curated by someone with control issues. Cold floors, vaulted ceilings, and minimalist art that probably cost more than my student loans.
I glance around, squinting at a modern painting that looks like someone spilled their coffee and called itGrief.
“Okay,” I mutter, glancing up at the hallway. “Seriously… who actually lives like this?”
Theo snorts. “Lucian.”
I make a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Of course. Probably has a private dungeon in the basement.”
“Probably two.”
We round a corner. I look at him sideways. “How long has it been?”
He hesitates. “Five days.”
I stop walking. “Five?! Like… five actual days? Not fever dream, slick-slick-gasp days?”
“Don’t panic,” he says quickly. “Kai got a message to the gala team yesterday. Said you had an emergency call and had to leave. They’ve got your stuff - he’s picked it up. I think.”
My stomach twists. “Lexi is going to hunt me for sport.”
