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“I won’t lie and say everything’s okay,” he said. “I won’t pretend this is simple. But your pain is mine now—my burden and my privilege. Without darkness, there’s no light. Without pain, there’s no true joy.” His thumb brushed my jaw. “Now, allow me to show you both.”

His fingers slid between my thighs, and I nearly came undone at the first contact. My hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the pressure, the friction—anything to ease the desperate ache he’d brought out.

“So responsive,” he murmured against my pulse, his touch tracing torturous circles just shy of where I needed him most. “Your body remembers, even when your mind can’t.”

“Stop talking in riddles,” I gasped, my nails biting into his shoulders. The words came out ragged, pleading. “Just…please…”

“Please what?” His thumb brushed over my silken peak, tender at first, then rougher. My vision sparked white. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want,” I growled, straining against his iron grip that pinned me in place.

“I know what your body craves,” he conceded, slipping a finger inside me with deliberate slowness. “But what does your soul hunger for?”

I was too far gone to consider his riddles. All that existed was the maddening curl of his finger in me, the relentless pressure that had me teetering on the edge.

“How should I know about my soul?” My voice was sharp. “What kind of question is that?!”

He withdrew his fingers.

“No.”The protest ripped from me. I twisted against him, half-mad with frustration. “Don’t you dare!”

He trapped my wrists above my head with one hand, his body pressing me firmly against the shelves. “Look at me,” he demanded. “And remember.”

“Remember what?” I arched against him, furious at being denied. Every nerve screamed for release, my body trembling with unmet need.

“Deeper,” he said against my throat. “Dig deeper.”

“I’m trying,” I snapped, struggling against his hold. The movement brought us closer together, his hardness pressing against my hip. At least I wasn’t the only one needing this and suffering.

“Not enough.” His teeth grazed my earlobe. “Until you remember, you’ll stay right here, wanting.”

Sadistic asshole.

I knew even if I retreated to my chambers, even if I tried to get off in the shower, it wouldn’t work. Somehow, only he could sate me.

Frustration made me spiteful. “Maybe I’ll find someone who won’t make me work for it.” As soon as the words came out, I regretted it. It was a dumb, reckless, and mean thing to say, but he brought out the worst in me.

No one was more infuriating than him.

His eyes darkened with jealous rage. “Whoever touches you will suffer my wrath,” he growled. “And you’ll witness what happens to men who touch what’s mine.”

“Don’t you threaten me!”

“Not a threat, baby,” he crooned. His free hand traced down my side, skimming over breast, ribs, hip—everywhere but where I burned for him.

“A promise. You’ve always been mine. From the beginning to the end.

” His lips brushed my pounding pulse. “And deep down, beneath your fire and fury, you know it.”

“Let me go,” I breathed, the words more plea than command.

He withdrew his fingers, never breaking eye contact as he brought them to his lips. The way he tasted me made my heated passage clench around empty air.

I glared at him, unsated and aching and furious.

His arrogant smirk only deepened. I wanted to slap it off his face, or kiss it away. The need pulsed through me, relentless, but I refused to beg. No matter how desperately my body screamed for release, my pride wouldn’t break.

That was the thing about Nero—unpredictable to the core. One moment, we were locked in challenge, the next he was worshipping my scars like sacred relics, and my heart would soften. Just when I felt myself falling for him, he’d pull away, like a jerk, leaving me aching and furious.

He demanded something I couldn’t give him. He probably didn’t know what it was either. Sometimes, we just didn’t know what we truly wanted, which was part of life.

His gaze raked over me, dark with hunger and heat. He craved me just as badly. I could see it in the tension of his body, hear it in his ragged breath. Yet here we were, suspended in this unnecessary tension and frustration.

“Go back to the tower, little flower,” he said, voice rough with restraint and his own unmet need. “You’ll draw attention if you stay out too long.”

Whose fault was that? He’d been the one to corner me here, to leave me like this.

And his warning was clear: the wrong kind of attention from the immortals watching me would be dangerous.

I adjusted my rumpled dress, smoothing the fabric as best I could.

Head high, I strode toward the exit without gracing him with so much as a backward glance, not even one of disdain.

But just before the door clicked shut behind me, his low chuckle curled through the air, sparking fresh heat between my thighs.

The tunnel’s damp chill rushed over my flushed skin, a stark contrast to Nero’s searing presence. A thought struck me: despite Sebastian’s warnings, despite everything, I’d never felt safer than when trapped in Nero’s arms.

Maybe I was broken. Maybe I always had been.

A figure peeled off the wall of the archway. My hands came up instinctively, weaving magic sparking at my fingertips, until the dim light revealed Orren’s familiar features.

“Apologies for startling you, Bloom.” His gaze carefully avoided my disheveled state. “I’m to escort you back. Lately, the campus isn’t secure after dark.”

No shit.

I didn’t know when I’d acquired this royal treatment, the hellhound guarding my nights, Orren shadowing my days. There was something unsettling about how similar they felt, especially since the hellhound never left the tower grounds.

“We’re collecting Sindy first,” I said, forcing steady breaths past the lingering ache Nero had left behind. I wouldn’t abandon my friend.

As we crept through the tunnels, I could still feel Nero’s phantom touch on my skin, his taste on my lips, his promise humming in my bones. Whatever game we were playing, whatever truth he wanted me to remember, I had a nagging feeling that time was running out for me to figure it out.