The high neck of my sweater rubbed against the constellation of bite marks Kronos had left, each brush of fabric sending my mind straight back to his bedroom. Halfway through cataloging a new shipment, I stared at the same pocket watch for five minutes, lost in the memory of his hands pinning my wrists above my head. I dropped an entire tray of vintage timepieces when my brain supplied the exact sound he’d made when he came,causing Mr. Daniels to ask if I was feeling feverish since my face had gone “redder than a summer tomato.”
The winter sun was setting by the time the last customer left, casting long shadows through Twyla’s elaborate window display. She’d changed it again while I was gone—the paper snowflakes replaced with crystalline branches that caught the fading light, casting rainbow patterns across the floor.
“Office. Now.” Her tone brooked no argument as she flipped the sign to CLOSED. The door had barely clicked shut before she threw her arms around me, the brass gears in her hair jingling. “Thank god you’re okay! I was so worried!” She pulled back to punch my shoulder, hard. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again! I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”
“I’m sorry,” I said, tucking my head.
“Twelve hours without a word!” She was pacing now, her cardigan swirling around her like agitated wings. “After what happened with the Madam, and then you just disappear? I thought they’d gotten to you! I thought—” She stopped, fixing me with a piercing look.
“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “Really sorry.” I swallowed hard, looking down at my hands. “I ended up...incapacitated.”
She studied me for a long moment, then her shoulders dropped. “You scared me.” Her voice was gentler now. “I know you can handle yourself, but after seeing those bruises…” She shook her head. “Just...send a text next time? Even if it’s just ‘not dead in a ditch’ or somethin’?”
“I will. I promise.” I met her eyes, trying to convey how much I meant it. “You’re the closest thing to family I’ve got right now.”
Twyla’s expression softened. She pulled me into another hug, gentler this time. When she pulled back, her entire demeanor had shifted, that familiar mischievous glint returning to her eyes. She hopped onto her desk, scattering a pile of invoices, and grinned. “Okay, now that that’s settled—out with it. How was he?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I muttered, studying a very interesting spot on the wall where she’d pinned up inspiration photos for her next window display. Most involved constellations and star charts.
“Oh please,” she grinned, kicking her feet like an excited child. “Those marks peeking out of your turtleneck paint quite a picture. A biter, huh? And don’t think I didn’t notice you wincin’ every time you sat down.” She said, wiggling her brows. If she kept that up, they were going to fly clean off her face.
Heat crept up my neck as I backed toward the door. “I have inventory to finish.” I lied. I just needed to get away from her questions. When she’d gotten so invested in my dates? I needed to quash her enthusiasm.
“You can’t hide in there forever!” Her giggle chased after me. “Was he as good as he looks—”
I escaped to my apartment, mind spinning with too many thoughts. The door closed with a satisfying click as I turned both locks and the chain, going through the motions that usually made me feel safe. My shoulders dropped as I finally let myself exhale.
“You’re late.” The wry voice behind me made my heart flutter. “I was starting to think you were avoiding me. I’m hurt.”
I spun around, tripping over my own feet. Kronos lounged on my bed like he belonged there, his colossal frame making my twin mattress look absurdly small. One of my books rested open in his hands, and my stomach dropped when I recognized which one—An Ember of Darkness: Beyond the Veil Chronicles, a depraved dark high fantasy romance, the corners of certain pages worn from repeated reading. He looked perfectly at ease, as if breaking into someone’s apartment was a casual afternoon activity.
“You have a thing for trauma,” he mused, turning another page with deliberate slowness. His silver eyes flicked up to mine, and that wolfish grin spread across his face. He tapped the dog-eared page. “Though after last night, I can see why you’ve revisited this moment so often. The way the protagonist begs for him to—” He read aloud.
“Get. Out.” I meant it to sound commanding, but my voice wavered traitorously. “How did you get in?”
“Your window security is tragic.” He didn’t look up from the book, still smirking at whatever scene he’d found. “Really, you should invest in better locks. Anyone could just...” He made a casual climbing motion with his free hand, “Climb right in.”
I crossed the room in three strides and snatched the book. His hand shot out, catching my wrist with impossible speed. The world tilted as he pulled me offbalance, and suddenly I was straddling his lap, our faces inches apart. The book thumped onto the mattress as he pinned my hand by his hip. His other hand caught mine, pressing it flat against his chest where I could feel his heart beating steady and strong.
“We need to talk about last night,” he said, all traces of teasing gone from his voice. The sudden shift in his tone made my stomach flip.Here we go.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I snapped, trying to jerk away. His hold remained immovable, like trying to break free from a steel trap. I focused my glamour, letting it build that magnetic pull that made humans want to please me, protect me, give me anything I asked for. The power hummed under my skin, but Kronos’s expression didn’t change. I focused my intent and said, “Why don’t you let me go, hmm? Could you do that for me, lover?” I tried to smolder and bat my lashes, but playing into it usually increased the effectiveness of my magic.
His lips curved into an amused smirk. “Cute trick.” His thumb traced circles on my trapped wrist, sending unwanted shivers down my spine. “But that won’t work on me.”
“Why the hell not?” The words came out sharper than I intended, fear and frustration making my voice crack. I was tired of being the weakest person in the room.
“Because I’m hot?” His voice rumbled through his chest under my palm. Simple, and entirely unsatisfying.
“If you can’t be serious, get out of my apartment.” I tried again to pull away, but the attempt just made me more aware of how easily he held me in place.
He pulled me closer until our lips nearly touched, his hand sliding to the small of my back. “I’m a Primal.” The words vibrated through his chest under my palm. “All the instincts of my ancestors, none of the mess of shifting. Just pure…” his teeth grazed my lower lip, “predatory drive. Paltry pixie magic doesn’t affect me.”
I knew what Primals were—lycanthropes diluted through generations of breeding with humans. All the strength, the hunting instincts, the dominance, without the full moon madness. It explained so much—the impossible strength, the way he’d tracked me through the city, why my glamour slid off him like water.
“I wanted to make sure you weren’t experiencing any negative effects from last night,” he murmured against my jaw. His stubble scraped deliciously against my skin. “The comedown can be intense sometimes. Needed to check that you were okay with everything we did.”
“I—” His mouth found that spot behind my ear that made thinking difficult. “I was fine. Just...wasn’t what I expected. And I’m not a pixie.”
