I hadn’t intended to sleep there. The plan had been to shower, destroy all evidence of what I’d done, and return to my apartment above Twyla’s shop. But the moment my head hit Kronos’s pillow, surrounded by his scent, the adrenaline crash hit hard. My eyes grew heavy, my limbs leaden with exhaustion.
Just a few minutes, I told myself. Just until I stop shaking.
The Madam wouldn’t let this go easily. The enforcers would be looking for me now, even more determined than before. But for tonight, wrapped in Kronos’s sheets, I allowed myself to feel safe. Tomorrow would bring consequences—they always did. For now, I just needed to breathe.
And plan my next move.
Chapter Ten
Midnight Craving
I stirred my coffee absently, watching steam curl into the winter air through the shop’s front window. The ceramic mug warmed my stiff fingers, but it did nothing to ease the tension coiling in my stomach.
Those first few days after our confrontation had been strange—a weird limbo where I’d check my phone, both hoping for and dreading his messages. He’d said that he had to leave town for a bounty, and he didn’t know how long he’d be gone. Part of me had been relieved, grateful for the forced distance to sort through my feelings. The other part had started counting the days until he returned.
My phone buzzed again. I knocked over my drink in my rush to check it, earning an annoyed look from the sprite barista wiping down nearby tables. Just a client asking about their order, I’d gotten a little behind. I’d half hoped it was another message like this morning’s.
Kronos:I have plans for you, little bunny. Hope you’re ready to play.
Six hours until midnight. Six hours until I was supposed to climb those imposing brownstone steps again. The last two months had been a special kind of torture—brief calls at odd hours as he tracked his mark across state lines. He’d been vague about the actual bounty, just that it involved someone “making unfortunate choices that endangered our kind.”
I checked my phone again. 5:54 PM. Still six hours. The coffee shop’s evening crowd buzzed around me, people rushing to finish errands before dark. A woman in an expensive coat ordered some complicated drink with “extra fairy dust,” literal sparkles dancing off her cup as she passed my table. Everything felt surreal, dreamlike. Maybe because I hadn’t slept in days, too wound up with anticipation.
The past two months had been a blur of long days at the shop and longer nights staring at my phone. Every time it buzzed, my heart would jump, wondering if it was another message from him. Sometimes they were innocent enough—asking about my day, commenting on some bizarre thing he’d seen while tracking his mark. Others left me squirming in my desk chair, having to take breaks from tooling leather because I was too flustered to keep working.
Last night was devastating. A photo of his hotel room’s massive bed, followed by a detailed account of what he planned to do tome on a bed that size. I’d had to read it in pieces, each paragraph making it harder to breathe. The memory of it still made heat crawl up my neck.
I took another sip of coffee, grimacing at how bitter it had grown while I’d let it cool. The cup was just something to do with my hands anyway—the last thing I needed was more caffeine when I already felt like I might vibrate out of my skin. Two months without his touch had left me numb and kind of pissy. I had to remember that I’d done this to myself.
Twyla had noticed my distraction, of course. She’d taken to making suggestive comments every time my phone went off at work. “Is that your hunter checking his snares?” she’d ask, waggling her eyebrows until I fled the front counter. At least she’d stopped asking for details after that first morning, though her knowing smirks whenever I adjusted my collar hadn’t let up. She’d left me a cold compress and a concealer that matched my skin tone on my bathroom sink. I had to take her key back.
The worst part was how easily he’d slipped past my defenses. One intense night, and suddenly I was counting hours until I could see him again. That wasn’t me. I didn’t do relationship things, didn’t let people get close enough to matter. Somehow Kronos had gotten under my skin, worked his way into my thoughts until I caught myself daydreaming about how he touched me in the aftermath of our encounters.
Even now, my fingers traced the rim of my coffee cup, remembering how his hands felt on my skin. The messages had gotten moreintense over the past week as he got closer to catching his mark. Last night he’d called—the first time in days—and just hearing his voice, that accent thick with promise, had nearly undone me.
“Soon, my sweet, darling bunny,” he’d growled, and I could picture that predatory smile. “I can’t wait to show you what I have planned for us when I get back. Are you sure you’re ready?”
Ready. As if I could be ready for whatever he had planned. The last text had mentioned something about rope, testing my limits, and making me beg. Just thinking about it made my pulse quicken. I checked my phone again. 5:58 PM.
The coffee shop had emptied as dusk crept in. Street lamps flickered to life outside, casting strange shadows through Twyla’s window displays across the street. I should head home and get some work done instead of sitting here letting my imagination run wild. Lately, my apartment felt too quiet.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the risk I’d taken three nights ago. With Kronos out of town and Twyla visiting her parents for the weekend, I’d convinced myself it was the perfect time to try breaking into Madam Michelle’s club. Not to dance or drink, but to get to her vault—to find my contract and destroy it once and for all.
The place had been different in the quiet hours before dawn. I’d made it all the way to the office, had even gotten the safe open, my contract in hand—only to trip the magical alarm I hadn’t known existed. I’d barely escaped with my life, leaving the contract behind in my rush to flee.
The barista was giving me pointed looks now, her iridescent wings fluttering with impatience as she wiped down the same counter for the third time. Behind her, the ‘Open’ sign flickered once, twice—a not-so-subtle hint. Outside, the last rays of sunlight painted the sky in shades of blood and gold, casting long shadows across the empty tables. The weather had turned bitter cold again, winter refusing to release its grip on the city despite the calendar insisting it should be warming up.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and reached for my coat, mind still tangled in thoughts of midnight. My elbow caught the edge of my mug, sending it teetering toward disaster. I lunged for it, fingers just grazing the handle before it crashed to the checkered floor. Coffee splashed across the black-and-white tiles, ceramic shards skittering in every direction like startled insects.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry,” I stammered, dropping to my knees to gather the larger pieces.
The sprite’s wings stilled as she glared down at me, her tiny features pinched with annoyance. “Don’t bother,” she said, voice like wind chimes in a storm. “Just go. We’re closing.”
Heat crept up my neck as I fumbled for my wallet, pulling out a twenty and setting it on the nearest clean tile. “For the mug and...the trouble.”
She snatched it up with delicate fingers, tucking it into the pocket of her apron with practiced efficiency. “Maybe get a to-go cup next time, hmm?”
Properly chastised, Ipulled on my coat and slunk toward the door. The bell chimed as I stepped into the cold, a gust of winter air slapping my heated cheeks. My breath fogged in the air like dragon smoke, curling upward to join the steam from the takeaway cup clutched in my hand—a last-minute purchase from the counter to justify how long I’d been loitering and now my only defense against the biting cold. Music drifted from Ogygia a few blocks away, the bass pulsing as night creatures woke, their shadows stretching across brick walls in anticipation of darkness.
