Our lips brushed.

He.

Froze.

His eyes flew wide and whatever trance he’d been in shattered. He jerked off me so violently, the silver metal on his chest flared with a red light beneath his shirt.

Snarling, he crashed onto his back beside me, grunting in pain.

And I did what any crazy, almost-kissed captive would do.

I rolled over and burrowed my face into his damp, hot neck. I hugged him as if I could protect him. And incredibly, he didn’t fling me off.

His hand that clutched his heart clutched my arm that I threw over his chest instead. His fingers bruised me as he held on, but just like before...he slowly calmed as if I did have the power to help. As if my presence affected him, just like his presence affected me.

Whisper snorted and paced the edge of the bed, grumbling with worry.

Not daring to move, I whispered, “It’s okay, Whisper. He’s okay.”

With a soft chuff, the cat accepted my assurance, yawned, and flopped down.

Stillness crept over us. Silence eased into the cracks. But Lucien didn’t move which meant I didn’t move.

I lost track of time before Lucien finally exhaled and tapped my arm to release him.

Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling.

Would he kill me for this?

Would he scold me, strike me—

Wordlessly, he pulled up the blankets that I’d shoved to the bottom of the bed and dragged them over both of us.

We lay there, side by side, not saying a damn thing.

I stayed rigid, heart hammering, staring at shadows.

Why wasn’t he going?

He couldn’t mean to stay here, could he?

“Eh...” I cleared my throat. “Are you not leaving?”

Turning his head, his eyes met mine, etched with weariness.

My heart fluttered and that ache between my legs grew a thousand times worse. Pain daggered my temple as I drowned in his stare—in his wariness and rage, the gratitude and distrust.

“It’s a long walk back to my quarters.” He cleared his throat as if that was a lie. Tearing his gaze from mine, he stared at the same shadows I did. “I’m tired.”

I didn’t speak and silence gathered tighter around us.

The longer we lay side by side, the more we slipped over whatever line had been drawn.

My heart raced faster. My skin prickled. And that damn pressure between my legs made me jumpy and needy and—

“I didn’t mean to come.” His voice was thick with accusation as if it was my fault. “I should stay the hell away from you but...” He swallowed hard. “Somehow, I’m here.”

My heart flung itself against my ribs.

Silence fell again before I murmured, “Did you come because I can somehow ease you?” My cheeks burned at the preposterousness of that. At the inexplicable explanation that something was going on, even as we fought against it.

He growled quietly as if his temper couldn’t be contained. “Yes.”

He scowled at the shadows. “I don’t understand why each time you ask me a question, I’m compelled to answer it.”

“Really?” I rolled onto my side, tucking my hands under the pillow and gazing at him. “You’re compelled?”

Lingering droplets of sweat slowly dried by his hairline, long strands of blue-black rested over his forehead. He didn’t turn to look at me, but he nodded stiffly. “I seem to want to talk to you.” He laughed coldly. “Which is ridiculous.”

“How is it ridiculous?”

“The more I tell you, the more you can use against me.”

“Pretty sure I know quite a few of your secrets these days. What’s one more?”

His eyes snapped to mine. “Is that a threat?”

I swallowed, still rationally afraid of what he could do to me.

But then I forced myself to relax because...if he hadn’t killed me by now. If he hadn’t stopped whatever this was, maybe he was as helpless as me.

“Just a fact.” I held his stare, adding quietly, “Besides, you know more about me than you think too.”

His eyes narrowed on mine before looking away again.

Sudden anxiousness made me blurt, “You don’t have to guard against me, you know. I won’t share—”

“If you know so much about me, why don’t you tell the others?” He went deathly still. “What’s stopping you from telling all those women my weaknesses?”

“Simple.” I shrugged. “They’re not my secrets to tell.”

His eyes shot to mine again.

“And no matter what you think of me,” I added. “I’m not here to hurt or betray you.”

He sucked in a breath as if I’d punched him. He flinched, unable to hide raw, startled shock. His stunned, childlike confusion ripped out my heart and snatched it for his own, even as he sneered and shut everything down. “I don’t believe you. If Marcus demanded you to tell him what I’ve been up to away from his cameras, you’d do it.”

“Marcus?” I wrinkled my nose. “Who’s Marcus?”

“The guy who threw you in here.”

Oh yes, I remembered him now.

“Ah.” I nodded. “He’s definitely a piece of work.”

“So you admit it? You’d tell him everything—”

“I’d tell him to shove his questions where the sun doesn’t shine,” I cut in. “Then I’d demand he let me and all the other girls go.” I smiled. “I would also probably ask Whisper to have some fun and see how he likes being the one in trouble for once.”

He didn’t thaw. “Am I supposed to believe that you wouldn’t trade my life for yours?”

“No.” I fluffed up the pillow a bit more, cradling it under my cheek. “But I do expect you to believe that I’m not like the rest who have betrayed you.”

He bared his teeth at the ceiling. “You’re still determined to convince me that you’re not lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“So even if they offered you five million dollars to either kill me or fuck me...you’re saying you wouldn’t take it?”

I scowled, insulted. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Please.” He laughed with a bitter edge. “Why would you turn down such wealth? You expect me to believe you’d choose me over that? A stranger who bound you in menial labour?” He didn’t look at me, almost as if he didn’t want to see me go back on my previous answer.

“You’re not a stranger,” I murmured. “Not anymore.”

His jaw clenched; he didn’t reply.

I studied him where I lay on my side. The longer I stared at his thick black eyelashes, flawless skin, and sheer agony-rage that always clouded him, the more I wanted to tell him who I really was.

If I told him that five million dollars was a week’s income for me, would that put him at ease? If I told him I was the sole heir and runaway empress of Snowflake Corp, would he even know what I meant?

While cleaning his mansion, I’d come across more correspondence with whoever ran Brimstone Industries. The single flame logo had become very recognisable, even if the contents were mainly boring graphs, forecasts, and meeting minutes.

The fact that they provided him with information about the very company keeping him prisoner was infuriatingly clever and cruel—keeping him involved in the very thing he’d tried to destroy when he was nine (if Laura was right) but was now destroying him.

I’d also gleaned enough to know that his company had done what mine had, and harnessed nature to provide perpetual energy.

The fact that I’d never heard of them filled my stomach with lead because it wasn’t just surprising at this point but suspicious.

How had no one—not one of my board members, researchers, or staff—mentioned Brimstone and the Ashfalls?

We should’ve been all over them. Should’ve tracked their patents and infrastructure, lobbied against them for risk, and done our best to infiltrate the markets they had their eye on well before they did.

And the fact that no one so much as whispered about Brimstone to me made me think that it wasn’t just him that’d been kept in the dark.

“You’re not speaking because you’re having second thoughts?” he finally asked, making Whisper raise his head.