Page 27

Lust sat beside me on the couch, maintaining a respectful distance. "I felt the surge of power. It was...distinctive." Something in his tone made me look up sharply.

"What aren't you telling me?"

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair–a surprisingly human gesture. For a moment, he looked almost vulnerable.

"Using magick the way you did tonight. Rage magick, fear magick–it leaves a signature. I recognized it." He paused. "It was similar to what you did at the matchmaking party, but stronger. Much stronger."

A chill ran through me despite my exhaustion. "Am I dangerous?"

Lust's expression softened, just a fraction. "Everyone is dangerous, Juniper. The difference between monsters and heroes isn't whether they have the capacity to harm others. It's whether that thought keeps them up at night."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. In the soft lamplight, the angles of his face seemed less harsh, more human somehow. "You lost control tonight, but your instincts were good. You were protecting someone. That matters."

"I lost control," I repeated quietly, the words scraping my throat. "I wanted to scare him, but then it just...kept building. I didn't want to stop." My hands twisted in my lap. "I liked how it felt. I liked watching him suffer."

"You were protecting someone," he countered. "Your intentions were good, even if your execution was enthusiastic."

That startled a laugh from me–a small, brittle sound in the quiet cottage. "Enthusiastic? I nearly crushed him with pure terror."

"But you didn't." Lust set his glass down. "You could have done far worse, but you didn't. Even without fear to temper your anger, some part of you held back."

I wasn't sure if that was meant to be comforting.

I stared down at my hands, half-expecting to see residual crimson energy clinging to my fingers.

They looked normal–just hands. Human hands.

But they had channeled something powerful tonight, something that had felt both foreign and strangely familiar.

"Let me help you," Lust said, his voice gentler than I'd ever heard it. "Your energies are still unbalanced from the extraction experiment. I can feel it; you're running too hot, too sharp. It's not sustainable."

I looked at him skeptically. "Your sin is lust, not emotional healing."

A hint of his usual smirk returned, though it seemed softer somehow. "Sex magick can be used for more than just sex, Juniper. It's about energy flow, connection, balance..." He raised his hands, hovering them near but not touching my face. "May I?"

The request surprised me–so unlike his usual presumptuous self. In the short time I'd known him, Lust had never asked permission for anything. The deference felt significant somehow, like he was acknowledging something important about boundaries.

I'd had so few real choices in my life. Everything had been decided for me–my education, my role in the coven, my marriage, my future. Even my death hadn't been my choice. But this moment, this decision, was entirely mine to make.

And after tonight, after feeling that intoxicating rush of power and control, I wanted something for myself. Something that felt good instead of terrifying or overwhelming.

"Yes," I said softly.

Lust placed his hands gently on either side of my face, his touch warm against my skin. His fingers curled lightly at my temples, thumbs resting just beneath my cheekbones. The contact was intimate without being invasive, careful without being timid.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Try to relax."

I did as he asked, letting my eyes drift shut. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a gentle warmth emanated from his palms, seeping into my skin. Not the crimson energy of my own magick, but something golden and honeyed, flowing into me like liquid sunlight.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as the energy spread, moving through my body in gentle waves.

It was nothing like I'd expected his magick to feel–there was no overwhelming desire, no loss of control, no sense of being manipulated or pushed toward anything.

Instead, it felt like being wrapped in the warmest blanket on the coldest night, like drinking hot tea when you're chilled to the bone.

The golden energy sought out the jagged edges left by my extraction experiment, smoothing them, balancing them.

Where I had created absence by removing my fear, it brought harmony.

Where I had intensified anger to dangerous levels, it brought perspective.

Not replacing or removing emotions, but restoring their natural equilibrium.

"Better?" Lust asked, his voice a rumble I could feel through his fingers.

I opened my eyes to find him watching me intently, his pupils dilated, breathing slightly changed. The hands on my face remained gentle, but I suddenly became aware of how close we were sitting, how the air between us seemed charged with something more than just magickal energy.

"Yes," I whispered, not trusting my voice at normal volume. "Thank you."

His thumbs moved almost imperceptibly, brushing across my cheekbones in a touch so light it might have been accidental. But nothing about Lust was accidental–every movement deliberate, every touch intentional.

"The magick you used tonight," he said, voice still low, "it was powerful. Raw. Few can channel emotional energy that way."

"Is that bad?" I asked, acutely aware that he hadn't removed his hands from my face.

"No. Just rare." His gaze dropped briefly to my lips before returning to my eyes. "You're extraordinary, Juniper Grey. Or should I say, Hazel Blackwood?"

"I don't know who I am anymore," I admitted. "Not really."

"You're whoever you choose to be," he said simply. "Death just gave you the freedom to decide."

Something shifted in the energy between us–the healing magick transforming into something else entirely. The golden warmth took on a deeper hue, an edge of heat that wasn't quite healing anymore. Lust's eyes darkened further, and I felt my own breathing quicken in response.

"I should go," he said, though he made no move to release me. "You need rest."

But I didn't want to rest. I wanted to feel alive, to make a decision that was entirely my own. After a lifetime of having my path chosen for me, after dying and coming back to discover even that hadn't been my choice, I wanted to claim something for myself.

"Stay," I said, surprising myself with the certainty in my voice. "Just...a little longer."

His magick pulsed once, strongly, between us. I found myself leaning forward, drawn by something beyond conscious thought. This wasn't desperation or gratitude–this was want, pure and simple. My want. My decision to make.

Lust's face was inches from mine now, his breath warm against my lips.

"Juniper," he whispered, my chosen name a question in his mouth. A request for permission. A recognition of boundaries I was free to set or dissolve as I chose.

I closed the remaining distance between us, answering with actions instead of words. With Xavier, I was supposed to want this. With Lust, I actually do. The difference is everything.