But the stairs were blessedly empty.

The door to Cinderkeep’s mansion hung open.

I choked on a stitch as the black stone palace swallowed us whole.

I’d thought running inside would be better than outside, but it was worse.

No light in here. No flames. No guidance.

Relying on familiarity from cleaning every inch, I chased after Whisper as he pulled ahead of me, streaking down the corridor.

He took a left and then a right, leading me deeper into the heart of Lucien’s home.

I expected him to race toward Lucien’s quarters—to take the path leading toward the only place his master let down his guard—but he didn’t. He took another left at the octagonal foyer, galloping toward the back of the property where I’d found the glass-surrounded swimming pool.

I skidded to a stop as we bolted into the warm muggy air of the conservatory. The smack of chlorine and density of tropical plants made my nose wrinkle.

Whisper snarled as he doubled back and snapped at my ankles, forcing me to keep moving.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Take me to him. Where is he?”

His tail whipped me as he spun around and led me past the pool to the rockery where the misty spa and cold plunge had been carefully hidden in an oasis of plants and privacy.

I staggered to a stop.

In the middle of the cold plunge, Lucien sat stiff and shaking.

Skin pale and waxen against the glacial clear water, his naked chest straining as he breathed hard. The silver metal stamped over his heart looked so severe compared to the flexing muscles of his flat abdomen. Blood stained the corner of his mouth—a streak down to his chin. His thick black hair hung over his forehead, shivering slightly with every inhale.

With his eyes tightly closed, he moaned—a small, raw sound that stabbed my heart with a thousand knives.

His hands balled on his bare thighs below the water’s surface. A band of black underwear rippling with the pool’s refractions. Moonlight poured in from the glass ceiling, casting everything in monochrome silver.

Every rational thought perished as I drank him in.

Patches of crimson heat glowed over his chest, the silver disc flashing with a red morbid light.

Whisper paced around the cold plunge, leaping onto the rocks and hissing with panic. Swiping at his master, he tried to get his attention, but Lucien never moved. Never opened his eyes.

I bit my lip as a ripple of red ribboned on the water’s surface, coming from behind him.

He’s hurt?

I stepped forward, drawn by compassion and worry and a heart full of emotions I didn’t want to name.

Whisper leapt onto my side of the pool and bared his teeth.

I flinched. “I know. I know you want me to help but I don’t know how.”

He snarled again, stalking right toward me.

“Nice, kitty...” I backed up—

My foot slipped on the edge; I almost lost my balance. With my arms flying outward, I caught myself and stabilised. “Whoa, that was close.”

Whisper snorted and pounced, shoving me over.

“No—!”

Frigid water crashed over my head, stealing my thoughts, my sanity, my very ability to breathe. My dressing gown turned heavy, dragging me to the bottom. I floundered, kicking off from the icy tiles below. Breaking the surface, I gasped and spluttered. With trembling hands, I shoved my soaking hair out of the way and wiped my face free from needles of ice.

Shock stung my skin.

The water was so cold it burned.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

My head ripped up as I locked eyes with Lucien.

His pupils were endless black holes of pain. His lips tinged blue as he shivered, the water waking around us from my fall.

He didn’t move. Didn’t reach for me. His eyelashes glittering with frosty droplets. “Well?” he demanded.

Whisper circled around us, crashing through the planted ferns and foliage, a growl low and rumbling like quiet thunder.

Lucien snarled back. “Will you stop being such a pain in the ass, you bloody beast?”

Whisper froze.

“I’m fine!” Lucien flushed with fresh pain, his throat working as he battled through it. “I’ve told you a million times, I won’t die tonight. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Whisper held his master’s stare before slouching like a dejected tabby cat. His ears flattened, his shoulders tucking tight as his head hung low.

My heart hurt for the poor thing.

“He’s j-just w-worried about you,” I muttered, my teeth chattering so much I feared I’d bite my tongue off. “W-Why are y-you freezing y-yourself t-to death?” Wrapping my arms around my waist, I hunched as much as I could. At least the plunge pool wasn’t deep. At least I didn’t have to swim.

“You don’t get to ask questions,” he snapped. “Answer mine. Why. Are. You. Here?”

“H-He brought me.”

“And you thought that meant you could trespass in the dead of night?”

I scowled, another bone-rattling shiver working down my spine. “H-He d-didn’t e-exactly give m-me a c-choice.” I pointed with a sodden, heavy arm at his depressed panther, now plastering himself against the rock. “B-Blame him. Not m-me.”

“Your teeth chattering is insanely annoying.” Swooping to his feet from where he sat on the submerged seat, he waded toward me, scooped me like a bride in his frigid arms, and carried me toward the edge.

Every part of me froze, woke up, and sizzled.

His body was unnaturally hot, as if his blood was on fire beneath his skin. Warmth curled off him in waves, soaking into my frozen flesh that had nothing to do with the fact he held me half-naked, tight against his chest, clutching me as if I meant something.

Our eyes locked and he hissed through his teeth.

My fingers found his shoulders out of reflex, clutching at slick, rock-hard muscle. Muscle I’d massaged. Muscle that was riddled with knots.

His bare skin felt like searing silk.

The cold water almost turned to steam around us. My night clothes clung to me, satin and lace plastering to every inch of my curves. Even numb from the cold water, I could feel everything about him—the ridges of his abdominals, the jagged rhythm of his breath, the raw, unnatural heat radiating from his chest into mine.

He lowered me onto the edge of the pool. His forehead brushed mine, barely a touch as he settled me on dry land, but it sent an electrical shock through my entire body.

His voice was hoarse as he planted his hands on either side of my dripping thighs, gripping the pool edge. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“W-What h-happened to you?” I caught the glint of red on my fingers—the hand that’d wrapped around his back for purchase. “Y-You’re b-bleeding?”

“Go change.” He arched a chin at the changing rooms hidden in another wall of flowers and ferns. “Any longer and you’ll get frostbite.” His lips twitched. “And there’s no one in here who can help you if you do. I certainly won’t.”

“B-But—”

Grabbing my hand streaked with his blood, he wiped his wet one over it, removing any evidence of his injury. “Go.”

The cold seeped past my skeleton into my very soul. “I-I don’t t-think I c-can m-move.”

His eyes dove into mine, piercing and full of disdain, yet beneath his familiar look of frustrated hate, I caught a glimpse of nervousness.

He glanced at my lips, his jaw clenching.

The ferocity of his stare woke something powerful and feral trapped deep within me.  Every breath we took seemed to sync, each exhale a little faster, shallower, as the night webbed us tighter together. Whatever he’d ignited within me clawed to get free, to touch him, know him, help him—

His hand suddenly came up—hesitant and shaking. Without a word, he brushed wet, heavy hair from my cheek, his fingers scorching me.

I gasped.

He ripped his hand back as if he hadn’t meant to touch me. As if he’d reached out against all his control. “Go,” he ordered.