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KLEOS

I usually took a while to wake up, reluctantly pulling myself out of the arms of Morpheus, stretching out like a cat before opening my eyes. Not today. The moment my brain returned to consciousness, I sat up, alarmed.

Oh, by the gods, no.

No, no, no, no, no.

My head was pounding harder than the day after a shot competition against Gideon and Silver, but everything came back to me in lurid detail.

“Oh, no,” I whimpered hopelessly.

I wished I could believe it had all been a dream.

The fact was that I was on a bed with red silk coverings in nothing but my panties and the diamond necklace, currently pink.

My bra, shoes, and dress scattered around the room, and chains hanging from the metal posts, said that everything I visualized had happened.

Could one die of embarrassment? I didn’t spontaneously expire, so presumably, no.

I was alone in the room. Lucian probably ran away as fast as he could the moment I stopped humping him like a bitch in heat.

Fuck .

We had a good thing going on this week. He was a tremendous help, and I’d grown to value his company, his conversation, the freedom that his manor afforded me, the dinners with his grandfather, his damn cat. Why the hell did I have to go and ruin it all?

A pile of fresh clothes sat on my bedside table, a note on top of it. My stomach dropped, dreading what I would read. No doubt, it would be something along the lines of, “ please get your ass out of my place and never darken my doorstep again, freak.”

Go on, Kleos. You’re a grown-ass woman. Deal with the consequences of your drug-induced actions.

I unfolded the smooth, thick paper. Naturally, his writing was perfect: long and inclined letters that gave the impression of speed and ease, while the result looked like professional calligraphy.

“Kleos,

Some clothes and slippers, in case you don’t feel like putting yesterday’s outfit on again.

Please drink some water.

I instructed the house to lead you back to my wing once you’re ready—just call out.

Breakfast will be waiting for you in the kitchen. Eat.

I have errands to run; depending on when you emerge, I might be out, or in Theke.

LSR.”

It was sweet, and much friendlier than what I’d expected, but it didn’t change the fact that he was avoiding me. Errands, my ass. He had good reasons, so I didn’t blame him one bit.

I put on the panties, loose cream lounge pants and teal silk top he brought me, along with the fluffy pair of purple slippers in my exact size, gathered my belongings, and shoved them into my purse before calling out, “I’m ready, house. Manor?” I didn’t know what it preferred.

By the time I stepped out of the room, a glowing blue rune hopping in the air in the corridor, so I darted out after it.

“Thanks for finding me,” I said, feeling a bit awkward about it.

I was talking to a rune which was part of a house. But clearly, everything here had a level of consciousness, and it wouldn’t be right to ignore it. The rune flashed brighter, as though to reply, you’re welcome, and led me through the maze of corridors.

We took a different path from Monday, as we didn’t need to stop by Lucian’s lab, so we reached the entry in no time.

Back in grand hall, with its checkered white and dark green flooring, marble columns, and arched ceiling, I hesitated as the rune zoomed to the right staircase. Maybe I should just go. Spare myself further shame by slipping away.

But that wouldn’t do. I needed Lucian’s help, and his library. My pride couldn’t get in the way of this investigation. I just had to apologize, and assure him I’d keep my distance from now on. He knew I’d been drugged. He wouldn’t kick me to the curb, would he?

I steeled my resolve and started to walk towards the stairway when the main doors opened before Lucian, followed ever so closely by Phobos.

Oh, gods.

I’d never seen him like this, not even last night in a fancy suit that sell for more than the average weeklong Caribbean vacation.

Lucian was in full regalia. I recognized the style, as both of my parents owned similar outfits.

My father wore his one time, at his first election.

My mother only put hers on at the end of the Pandia, Zeus’s festival.

It was the biggest event of the year, and as the head of Zeus’s temple, she granted the prizes to whoever won the Godly Games—duels, races, contests.

His was spectacular: a high neck, severe silver shirt, stitched with what looked like white gold threads, under a dark blue silk waistcoat, and a damask suit with gold buttons, just as delicately embodied as the shirt at the lapel.

Over it, he wore a capelet, perhaps less dramatic than Ronan’s dark, floor-length cape from yesterday, but just as regal, with its pattern of fleur-de-lys, oak leaves, laurel, and peacocks.

A gold chain attached to two shining brooches held it in place.

Anyone who’d met that version of Lucian would have rightly concluded that they were dealing with a prince.

“Ha, you’re up!” He smiled easily, not seeming at all bothered to find me in his house again.

I made myself smile back. “That’s quite the outfit.”

The corners of his lips hiked farther up. “Yes, a necessary evil while dealing with the council of elders. I can dress the part, or waste half an hour getting chastised for failing to do so.”

So, he honestly had been busy. It was reassuring that he hadn’t left just to avoid me. “You had a council session on Saturday morning?”

“Yes: an emergency one, in fact. Follow me, please. We ought to sit down, and perhaps have something to drink for this conversation.”

My stomach dropped.

I should have expected as much. Of course, we were going to have a conversation. And it would end with, “please see yourself out of my life, love.”

I followed him into the drawing room—the first room I’d entered in this now-familiar house. It looked just as gorgeous and imposing as the first time I’d stepped in there, but with Lucian matching it, I was twice as intimidated.

He took his armchair-slash-throne, and I returned to my designated sofa.

“Tea, please,” Lucian called out. “And brandy. I definitely could use a fucking drink.”

In the last week, I had never seen him drink before the evening.

I noticed Lucian wasn’t looking at me directly today. Maybe I should spare both of us, and make my excuses. Thank him for all his help, and work out the rest myself.

Yes, that was the right call. I opened my mouth to do just that, when a tea set hovered over to the side table, with the requested bottle of brandy next to the milk.

“Thanks,” Lucian said out loud, leaning in to pour water into our cups.

Then those silver eyes reached mine. “There’s no nice way to say it, so I’m just going to cut straight to the meat.

The entire party was drugged last night.

We left early, but it was a practical orgy less than an hour after that.

Preliminary findings show that the lust potion was pumped through the air. No one was spared.”

I gasped, horrified. “Everyone?”

He nodded. “It was lucky there were no kids at the scene.

Parents tend to bring them for the cocktails and dinner, but send them home before the actual ball portion of the evening.

But yes, yesterday, hundreds of well-to-do valers ended up fucking their neighbors, friends, and bosses in dark corners—or just against a flat surface, from what I understand.

We can expect dozens of divorces for infidelity filed by Monday.

Not to mention, a considerable rise in the birth rate. "

“Fuck.” The vision his words brought to my mind needed to be scrubbed out of my brain, permanently.

He cracked a smile, pouring a generous amount of brandy into his cup. “That was the general theme, yes.”

I raised my hand to demand the bottle, doing the same. “So, it wasn’t about me?”

“Believe it or not, not everything is, love.” Lucian winked.

“But that’s not necessarily a correct assumption.

I mean, drugging everyone would be an efficient way to ensure you, and anyone tempted to protect you, would be incapacitated, if whoever was responsible took an antidote first. And we’re dealing with someone who’s killed multiple times to get to you. ”

I downed half of my spiked tea. “Wait a minute. You weren’t affected, were you?”

I remembered yesterday perfectly. While I’d been as wanton as a trollop, Lucian had been normal.

“Yes, well, I wouldn’t be, would I?” He ran his hand through his artfully tousled hair. “I mean, I’ve partied at Pan’s every other weekend for the last decade. I’m immune to low-level amounts of lust magic. It’s in all the drinks, there.”

“Pan’s,” I repeated. “Is that a club?”

“Yes; owned by Pan,” he replied. “Technically, it’s called The Wild Horn , but that’s a stupid name, so everyone just calls it Pan’s.”

Finally, it clicked. “As in, god of the wild Pan?”

“The very same. It’s the most popular club in the underside, right on Life Avenue.

” Lucian poured us both more tea. I added the brandy.

“He puts erosyn into everything—the substance coating Eros’s arrows.

The rims of glasses, the actual drinks, all the snacks.

Sure, the first time you get a taste generally ends in a sex fest, but you can build up an immunity.

Anyway, that’s what got you yesterday. The council’s making a nuisance of itself, calling all founders, nobles, and magistrates and demanding an investigation, which will likely lead nowhere. But I figured you’d like to know.”

Somehow, it made me feel a little better, knowing that I wasn’t the only one affected—then worse, when I remembered Lucian said it might still all be to get to me .

“The one behind this will stop at nothing, won’t they?” I whispered.

My question was met with a lengthy silence. Finally, Lucian said, “I have an idea. Something I’d been trying to avoid, but I think it’s time.”

Something in his dark look made me scared to ask, but I had to. “What?”