Staggering backward, his hand planted right over the metal disc. Between his fingers, no lights glowed. No red illumination to hint he was about to be punished.

So why was he so afraid?

I followed his stare and almost dropped to my knees.

A single strip of wallpaper had ignited with hungry flames—the edges curling and charring—the silvery flower pattern engulfed as the fire continued to climb toward the ceiling.

How?!

With a savage curse, Lucien lurched toward the bathroom. Whisper streaked after him, keeping pace as Lucien returned with the glass bowl that used to hold tiny toiletries for guests, now full to the brim with water.

Throwing it at the burning wall, the flames hissed and spat as liquid splashed everything—including me.

Only once the sizzle had ceased did Lucien lower the bowl and glance at the pacemaker still embedded in his heart. “I kissed you to test if it was truly broken...” His chin tipped up, his eyes tight with questions. “I thought my burning came from that.” His hand rose to claw at the device. “I thought all my pain originated from this fucking thing but...” He looked at the dripping wall. “What if it wasn’t?”

A migraine shoved sharp daggers in my skull.

I wanted to help him.

To think about this logically.

There had to be a realistic answer for what’d just happened.

Perhaps one of the sockets caught fire? Maybe there was some exposed wiring? There had to be an explanation, but the longer we stood there, the more reluctant we were to speak.

My migraine grew worse the longer Lucien glowered as if all of this was my fault. With a groan, he backed up, dropped the bowl onto the couch, and raked both hands through his glossy black hair.

He looked on the verge of breaking.

He shook his head in denial.

His gaze landed on the fire-damaged wall again. “I...I need a shower.”

He fled.

Chapter Sixteen

THE BATHROOM DOOR SLAMMED BEHIND HIM.

A second later, the shower roared to life.

A tremor worked through me as I wrapped my arms around myself.

I couldn’t stop staring at the wall.

At the burned strip of wallpaper that’d turned into a physical scar. A wound that couldn’t be hidden—a blaringly obvious sign that Lucien had—

He can’t have.

It has to be a socket or wire.

It has to be.

Gritting my teeth, I staggered forward and ran my fingers over the still dripping, now very sooty wall. I searched for a malfunctioning electrical unit. I looked behind the luggage bench. I ducked to check the skirting boards. And...nothing. No light switches, no sockets, no hints that this was exactly what it looked like: Lucien Ashfall burned so hot while kissing me, he made the wall catch fire.

Oh God.

My heart tried to take a running leap out of my chest.

Don’t be ridiculous.

He was human. He was as real as me. Just because I couldn’t see a logical explanation, didn’t mean one didn’t exist.

And if there isn’t one?

Another full-body tremble had me shaking in panic.

He’s always been different.

Always been more.

From the very first moment I’d met him in that ballroom, he’d felt otherworldly—chained and restrained with a power clawing at his veins to get out.

What if it’d gotten out?

What if—

Whisper nudged me, interrupting my spiral. He pressed his massive head into my side, his golden eyes soft with sympathy.

“Did you know about him?” I asked quietly, ruffling his ear. “Was it him? Did he burn so hot he made the wall catch fire?”

The panther sighed heavily and pulled out of my grasp. Padding toward the locked exit, he scratched at it with a whimper.

Damn.

Did he need to go out?

Did the house-trained panther need to pee?

“Eh...” I went to him, my brain fixating on this new problem, almost as if it wasn’t ready to fixate on the one caused by Lucien.

“I don’t think they’ll let you out, tiny cat. And I don’t think I’m prepared to ask them to. What if they take it as an opportunity to shoot you? What if you’re caught and they take you away?” I shuddered at how Lucien would react. “I’m not willing to take the risk.”

Turning to face the bathroom and the still raining shower, I added, “Just wait until he’s finished and then you can pee anywhere you want in there. I’ll clean up after you, okay?”

Whisper snorted as if I’d suggested he cock a leg in public.

“I’m sorry, alright?” I spread my hands in surrender. “There’s not much else I can do right now.”

The poor panther sneezed in disgust and went to sulk by the only window.

Fresh pain throbbed behind my eyes, sharp and relentless, climbing into dangerous territory.

I need air.

I couldn’t wait any longer.

Couldn’t exist in this limbo anymore.

I need out!

Panic wound tighter and tighter in my chest.

Tomorrow we would be thrown back into Cinderkeep if we didn’t run.

My aching eyes shot to the old-fashioned cuckoo clock on the wall.

10:37 p.m.

Marcus would return in the morning.

We need to go!

My gaze dropped to the blood-soaked towels on the desk.

If Marcus found out that Lucien had removed the cuffs and fried the vitalsync core. If he knew what he’d done to the wall—

Panic.

Panic over what almost happened, what had happened, and what would happen.

Panic over what Lucien was. Not who. What.

My throat tightened as my attempt at not thinking about it unravelled.

People didn’t burn the way he did. People didn’t have blood that could heal—

Stop it.

What if Marcus had always known what Lucien was and used pain to keep him in line?

What if Lucien hadn’t just gotten free but made everything a thousand times worse?

The room faded in and out as black spots crowded my vision.

A queasy wave of vertigo played havoc with my balance, and I tripped to the closest thing that could save me.

Landing heavily on the luggage bench by the door, I tipped forward and clutched my raindrop pendant. My fingers wrapped around the cool crystal, begging it to actually work for the first time in my life and take away my pain.

With a groan, I slid sideways as faintness tried to drag me down.

My head fell on my still-damp rucksack. My cheek pressed against the zipper and something small and brick-like answered back.

My eyes popped wide.

Jerking upright, I tore open the front pocket where my phone rested. Out of battery and fast asleep but helpfully cuddled up next to its charger ready to be useful. Relief blanketed me.

How could I be so stupid?!

Dillon.

Dillon can help!

My long-suffering bodyguard who’d probably had an aneurysm looking for me for the past seven weeks.

Snatching the charger and phone, I went to launch upright but another small bulge in the side pocket had me freezing.

My stomach turned.

Slipping my hand into the bag, I pulled out the vial of Lucien’s blood that he’d given me this morning—just before demanding I kill him.

I swallowed hard at the thought of drinking cold, coagulated blood.

In any other circumstances, there would be no way. On any other day or in any other nightmare, I would toss it out the window and forget I’d ever been in the slightest bit tempted but...

He’d set the wall on fire.

I was moments away from blacking out yet again.

I couldn’t afford to be a burden and...we had to run.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I grimaced as I unscrewed the stopper and fought the urge to gag. His blood had darkened, settling thick at the bottom like oil instead of liquid.