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Then there was Liam. How she’d loved performing for him again. During her performance, the room had faded until it seemed it was just the two of them. How many times had she imagined it was him sitting in that chair? Turns out, the reality was even better than her fantasies.

After her performance, she remembered Dante’s ambiguous warning that a piece of her soul had been tied to Alistair’s dagger, along with his promise that everything would be clear come morning. Some oracle he was. She’d never been so foggy.

Again, she felt far too good to muster much outrage. Today it seemed as though a weight had lifted from her chest. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost describe the feeling as…contentment.

There was only one logical explanation for it all.

She was still high.

This revelation didn’t concern her nearly as much as it should.

Whatever was in those herbs had done wicked things to her libido. She’d had a vague memory of Liam taking her in the bed. Upside down in the bed. Hanging off the side of the bed. Bent over the foot of the bed. Her cheeks heated. Never had she allowed a male to take so many liberties with her body. Still, not once had she felt the need to restrain him, giving him a mind-boggling amount of control. And yet, her only regret was her hazy memory.

She eased out from under Liam’s heavy arm. He snored a mumbled objection, turned to his stomach, and hiked up a leg. The sight of her mark on hisderrièreswirled warmth through her system. This she remembered in delightful detail. Dante’s whip was well-balanced. The weight of it in her hand had felt like an extension of herself. She’d never forget the look on Liam’s face when she’d sliced his pants.

Her teeth ached to take a bite out of his firm backside. Even after a night of marathon sex, the likes of which she’d never known.

She rubbed her hand over her face. This was insanity. When she called in Liam’s marker, she’d never imagined it would lead themhere. Perhaps once his debt was paid, they could continue their affair. After all, they were more than suited in bed.

When this was over?

At the thought of him leaving her, fury burned the pit of her stomach. No doubt, the possessive thoughts rolling through her mind were nothing more than a side-effect of Dante’s herbs. She had no intention of keeping Liam. He had a life of his own. One far removed from hers.

But he’s mine, whispered a voice she hadn’t heard in decades.

She frowned. That voice was young and naïve. That voice died the first time Alistair had struck her.

Perhaps a shower would help to clear her mind. She turned and headed to a curtained room. Inside, she found a sunken tub and a separate shower, along with everything she needed. Once she’d scrubbed off the previous night’s adventures, she stood before the vanity. Steam obscured her image in the mirror.

While the hot water had soothed much of her discomfort, the ache in her shoulder persisted. She massaged the knotted muscle while memories cut through her foggy mind.

Liam’s voice rang in her ears. “Want you feeding from me as you fuck me, Viv.” Goosebumps rose on her skin, and a sense of foreboding washed over her.

Feeding while fucking was dangerous and irresponsible. Had she been sober, she’d never have been so bold. Was it possible that she’d reciprocated? Did Liam feed from her?

She grabbed a towel and buffed the mirror. Drew her damp hair over her shoulder and ran her hand down her throat.

Twin punctures marked her neck. But not just any punctures.

These would never fade.

Liam had branded her.

Duo corda, amor unus. Two hearts, one eternal-soul-binding love.

Breath seized in her lungs. Her body went numb. The walls closed in around her frozen frame.

No, no, no, no, no.

Surely, the bonding was incomplete, just as the ceremony had been when Alistair tried to suck her soul into that dreaded dagger.

There must be some mistake. Yes, that was it. A mistake.

She borrowed a silk robe she found on a hook, slung it on, then stumbled to the bed on wooden legs.

“Liam.”

“Mmm.”