Following him, my mind raced on how to respond.

How had this happened?

I’d come here needing to be kind to him.

I’d arrived with my heart full of guilt for what Laura did to Whisper and gratitude that he’d tried to prevent me from suffering.

Yet...how was I supposed to break this animosity between us?

How could I bridge the gap from boss and employee, captive and villain when he only saw me as one of them?

We both didn’t want to be here. We were both lonely. Both suffering. Instead of keeping our guard up around one another, wouldn’t it make sense to be on each other’s side?

Before I could stop myself, I dashed in front of him and spread my arms.

He wasn’t expecting a roadblock and slammed into me.

Our bodies collided and instantly ignited. I gasped as his force shoved me back, making me trip—

His arm snapped tight around my waist, jerking me against him, stopping me from falling by making me fall into him instead. My hands landed on his chest; our eyes locked.

He was so tall, he made me feel fragile and tiny, even as his arm snared tighter, pinning me against his lean, powerful body.

I couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move.

His gaze fell to my mouth and a heavy exhale escaped him as if touching me affected him in the same way. The shadows in his stare faded. His churning hatred and hollow misery broke apart like clouds the longer we—

“What are you doing?” Shoving me back, he stepped away, his hands curling into fists.

“I’m...” I literally had no idea what I was doing. “I’m...” My heart thundered, and if I didn’t do something to break the spell, I might very well try to touch him again. Kiss him again. Throw myself into the chaos that always swirled around us the moment we were in the same room together.

Glancing around his home—seeking a distraction from the crackling chemistry, I locked onto the only thing that made sense.

I’d mopped, dusted, polished, and tidied every inch of this place. Instead of trying to convince him I could be trusted as a friend, I latched onto a ridiculous notion of proving my reliability by directing his attention to the only thing I’d done for him. Even if it had been done under duress.

Pointing at the closest side table—a gorgeous piece carved like a miniature weeping willow—the branches and leaves an absolute nightmare to dust—I said, “Do you see how clean that table is?” Rushing toward the library shelves, I waved left and right. “Do you see how each book is dust-free? How the shelves sparkle?”

He crossed his arms. “Your point?”

“My point?” I swallowed hard as Whisper yawned and padded past. “My point is...I’ve done what you asked. I’ve obeyed you—”

“And in return, you want more of my blood. I get it.”

My heart sank.

“Don’t worry.” His lips tipped into a mocking smile. “I’m used to it. You don’t have to pretend you care for me just because you’ve finally figured out how I can benefit you.”

“That’s not what this is,” I whispered. “That’s not—”

“I’ll still pay you what you’re owed.” His chuckle was laced with frost, even as something broke inside him. “As long as you do what I say, I’ll keep you alive and compensate you accordingly.”

My cheeks turned red, blaring my shame before I could lie.

Revealing the truth that somewhere along the line, I had learned how he could benefit me and it wasn’t what he thought. I hadn’t expected it. Didn’t really want it. And definitely didn’t know how to survive it. But desire kept creeping through me the longer we were together and if he didn’t somehow ease the aching, throbbing—

“Forget it,” I whispered, my eyes burning with tears. “Is that everything? Do you have any requests on what you want me to clean today?”

An unreadable mask slipped back over his face.

Any fleck of connection we’d cultivated in the past month snuffed out.

“Do whatever you want.” He sighed as if he was as exhausted as I was. “Just...stay where I can see you.”

A dagger lanced my chest as he marched toward the window seat. To hide in a book. To pretend I didn’t exist, all while somehow using my presence to ease some of his pain.

I trembled.

If I let him shut down, everything would be ruined.

If I stood any chance of making him accept me, I had to push, to fight, to prove that I wasn’t like them. That he could trust me. Like me...

Running after him, I—

“Oh, and another thing.” He spun around, his face black with anger. “Was it you who, ooof—”

I collided with him as violently as he’d slammed into me.

My face smashed into his chest, my speed tripping him up.

We both cried out as he fell backward, tumbling over the back of the couch and landing on the soft cushions below.

I landed on top of him.

His arm shot out on instinct, caging me, keeping me from rolling off. My palms ended up planted on his chest again, feeling the wild hammer of his heart.

Heat.

Everywhere.

His body burned under my hands like lightning. His coat sleeves draped down his forearms as he locked me on top of him, the silver cuffs on his wrists glinting in the sunlight.

“Sorry,” I whispered, breathless and terribly afraid of being accused of planning this. “I didn’t mean...” I pressed my lips together, refusing to say anything else.

He stared at me. Really stared. His dark eyes weren’t arctic anymore—his pupils blown wide and hungry, something raw and unguarded swimming in the bottom of his soul. Without a word, his arm slid tighter around my waist, pulling me flush against him as if he’d forgotten himself.

For a heartbeat, I saw nothing else, felt nothing else.

Just him.

Just his body beneath mine, his palm splayed over my lower back, his breath skimming my lips. Sparks danced in every place we touched, a static charge building stronger and stronger, until one wrong move could set us alight.

His gaze dipped to my mouth, his fingers flexed against my spine, and I completely forgot how to breathe.

He shivered as if my proximity unravelled him, but then, with a guttural groan, he shoved off the couch, taking me with him. He supported me until I stood on two feet, then shoved me away. The loss of contact made my skin burn with snow after burning with his unnatural fire.

Breathing hard, he clenched his fists by his sides. “Stop playing whatever games you’re playing.”

“I’m not—”

“I’ll pay you in blood but not in that.”

How did he break my heart by offering to pay me with the very thing trapping him here, yet constantly denied himself any form of companionship?

It only made me more determined.

More sure that I was doing the right thing trying to be his friend.

“Lucien, I—”

“Don’t.”

“But—”

“Was it you who hurt Whisper?” He cut me off deliberately. “Did you use the knife I gave you to harm the only thing I care about?”

Every piece of me smarted as if he’d slapped me.

This was going from spectacularly bad to horrifically horrible.

I didn’t want to name Laura because I couldn’t be responsible if he killed her. But if I said it was me...

“Did you hurt him to hurt me?” he breathed, pain aching behind his fury.

Whisper came to my side, headbutting my hand until I stroked him without thinking, the solid bulk of him pressing hot against my thigh.

I still couldn’t reply.

I stared at death and went absolutely speechless.

Lucien glowered at his panther.

Silence echoed between us as he studied the way Whisper purred—almost obnoxiously loud as if defending me. I opened my mouth to speak—to try to deflect blame from Laura and save myself, but Lucien pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

“Forget it.” His tone turned heavy and tired. “It wasn’t you.”

I stiffened. “Are you...will you make whoever did it pay?”