Certain every last word would have to be expertly chosen or the consequences might be severe, I considered saying nothing at all. But in the end, in that scented steam, I dared test exactly where that line in the sand might be.

  Back to the smooth shower wall, still marveling that the water was not ice-cold, as it would have been in the academy, I tried and failed to ignore how his cock hooked my hip and stroked as it clung.

  “Cyderial.” I tasted his name on my tongue, rolled it around as if to soften its hard edges. “You want a secret? Last night, you left me here alone, to wake up to an empty dwelling after you forced me to sleep. I’m certain you imagined I would be angry.”

  He smirked and made noises that did things to the part of my brain that could not be trusted.

  “It was the first time I had been alone, completely cut off from others of my kind, in as long as I can remember,” I said with just enough venom to soften my voice’s natural sweetness.

  He hummed. “That must have been strange for you.”

  “I hated it.” And that was a secret I could openly admit. “Leaving me alone in this house will change me into something you will not enjoy. Not if you want me more than you want to fuck.”

  And every last word was true.

  Hands to my hips, offering me his full attention, he said, “You’re thinking of Miranda and her decade of⁠—”

  “Prison.” There was no better descriptor for what her mate did to her.

  Candid, Cyderial displayed nothing but pride in my actions. Smirking, he even offered a gentle purr. “Do you imagine in those early days that Miranda felt comfortable enough in her mate’s home to blatantly move objects anywhere she pleased?”

  Raising my chin, I straightened my spine. “You put those things in the wrong places. I corrected your misjudgment.”

  And, yes, I spent hours doing as I wished no matter how frightened I was. I touched all of his things and did as I wished with them.

  Grin growing, his chest began to softly thrum. “It pleases me more than I can say to have you nest in our home. Explore the gifts I have prepared for you. Move whatever you will anywhere you wish.”

  “You knew I would go outside and… see stars.”

  “Did you like them?” All eagerness, he leaned closer.

  I could see how badly he wanted me to give an emphatic yes, to let him know how I had marveled at the unimaginable view his home provided. But, the stars, the whole hidden world above the fog, would have to wait for another day. “They were… almost as pretty as the fog.”

  A minute shift in his expression at that word.

  Fog.

  So I tested his temper further. “I read a few chapters of the book in your study.”

  Hiding none of my aversion toward the tome, my entire demeanor shifted into one far more guarded.

  “Which book?” His pleasure to hear me speak to him was apparent, rampant, his every expression coaxing me to keep going.

  The dreadful book bound in blue vorec leather. “Your Manual on Young Mates.”

  Fingertips landing between my bare breasts, a featherlight stroke ran down my flat stomach. “What about the book displeases you?”

  “It was written to guide hybrid men in techniques to trick an inexperienced girl into submission.” Horrible and effective. Cyderial had proven the book's lessons produced results as promised. “How can you trade knowledge that reduces a female to a concept—one that could be fed, watered, and fucked? You made a study of the author’s suggestions, followed his advice… and I reacted exactly how the manual claimed I would.”

  It made me feel like more of a prized collectible than a person. “You want another secret? I’m mortified females can be so easily manipulated. I’m ashamed you wield such an unfair advantage. And I’m depressed to realize that the first time I awoke in your house, it was that very book you studied.” I felt my lip quiver as even the parts of me so thoroughly seduced in the shower retreated. “You did it all as the author instructed—delicious food, soothing drink, physical touch, banter, sexual pleasure. How dare males share such knowledge that is hidden from us females.”

  He cocked a brow. “If I do not study, how can I ensure I do not make the same mistakes as those who came before me?”

  Catching his exploratory touch before male fingertips might dare touch where they were not welcome, I warned, “You say you love me⁠—”

  “I do!” Quickly spoken and with grave intensity, he cupped my jaw, assuring he had my full attention as he repeated it. “I do love you, Lorieyn.”

  “That’s not love. That is war. You have waged war on me from the day we met.”

  All gentleness and ease, he pulled me closer for a cuddle. “What do you know of war, you beautiful, fragile thing?”

  I knew being fucked by a well-studied mate had been indescribably pleasurable. Which gave me good reason to fear the addiction might grow beyond my physical need for his fluids to soothe my heat. I might even begin to confuse his attention with intimacy, when I had no one else to talk to.

  It might change me.

  Allowing myself to indulge in the comfort he offered, knowing it was wrong, I heard a tremor in my voice. “I’m going to miss my sisters, and it hurts to think of it. They love me, Cyderial, in a way you never could. You took me away from them.”

  “I do not doubt they will miss you in the barracks.” A deep breath stretched his ribs, exhaled on a sigh as his arms became all the tighter around me. “But need I remind you that you were going to abandon your sisters for the fog?”

  Shame ran in a shiver under my skin, a fair reminder I had chosen myself over the collective. “I envy males. You hear a song and know. Females are left ignorant, not only by nature but by the men who say they love us. Why do we not have such books? How am I to learn to handle you? All we are is shut away, locked in a vault to slowly go crazy until dreams of escape tempt us to wander the academy halls at night, lonely, knowing something is very wrong but having no clue what it might be.”

  Solemn in his reply, he stroked wet hair from my face. “You will not be lonely anymore. You will not go hungry. You will be denied nothing I can give you for your benefit.”

  And that was the issue I needed answering. “Who decides what benefits me?”

  A fair question.

  “I do.”

  There it was. Verbal confirmation of how tenuous my position was. A powerful man with a wealth of knowledge, a disgust for humans, and an eagerness for physical pleasure would decide what he believed was best for me.

  With the inquisitive gaze of a student eager to challenge her teacher, I prepared my mind with a real consideration of the hours I had spent in his presence since being mated. I navigated each remembered interaction. Cyderial had provided everything I’d asked for and a great many things I had not.

  Promises of a comfortable lifetime as his stolen mate.

  “Let me show you all will be well.” With that, his mouth fell to mine to feast upon my troubled words until I was breathless and shamelessly making sounds that betrayed how much his touch could undo me.

  Less than forty-eight hours had passed since I awoke in his house, and still, my breath caught on a moan when he palmed my breast and blatantly employed another trick he must have known I read in his filthy book.

  And it worked.

  My insides were fluttering, my pelvis tilting, and a very small part of me prayed he’d force me down upon his cock.

  Even if he scared me senseless.

  Indeed, I was doomed.

  2

  Warm shower raining over me, exhilarated in the steam, and fully drunk on the male kissing my mouth, I melted.

  Just as he knew I would.

  There was power in understanding, in grasping just how much control he could wield. That knowledge was mine—the awareness that he would use everything he could think of to draw me in.

  It gave me something to work with, made him—at least in that small matter—predictable.

  Temper cooling, my dread faded under a wave of longing. The tricks he could use….

  Every touch was a weapon, every sigh a small act of violence against my aversion.

  Water vapor sweet with his scent tasted almost as good as my beloved fog. The sounds he could make forced muscles to unknot along my spine. Languid, slow kisses as I was rinsed clean of my sins stirred me. Strong male hands caressed where I was soft as he purred for me… yet the one whose chest rattled the loudest was mine.

  I preferred the shower immensely over the bed, loved the way the steam danced atop whatever part of me he wasn’t touching. That I could stand, shift my weight, shove him off if I needed to.

  Yet, when he pulled away at last, my mouth followed. Drowsy, I blinked after the male.

  How he smiled as he reached for the soap to wash his body with rich lather, watching me measure him and try to remember why I had been angry.

  “I think… the space is too enclosed,” I hummed, dragging in a deep breath. “Your scent is heavy in the steam.”

  With a devilish chuckle, he said, “It wasn’t intentional, but I’d be lying if I claimed I don’t enjoy when you forget to hate me and realize deep down you want a mate strong enough to steal you away.”

  Shaking my head, mesmerized by the way lather ran down his hard body, I disagreed. “When I was in the city with Maeve, I saw couples walking together holding hands. I had never seen a man and woman touch or smile at one another in that way. It was the first time I was even marginally tempted to consider the list. But you didn’t hold my hand. You grabbed me by the throat.”

  Rinsed fully, his blond hair was darkened by the water, but his gaze was darker. “Deep down, you would never be satisfied by a pedestrian mate. Not a woman like you. You run the show without anyone the wiser, dance circles around your instructors, steal pretty rocks from dangerous men, and would be bored to tears with the kind of mate who wasn’t willing to rip your precious dress and fuck you on the floor of his office.”

  “You have an unfair advantage right now.” It was hard to get angry when I was trying very hard not to sink my claws into him and pull him closer. “Say that again when my head is clear and I can respond properly.”

  “See? You have mouthed off to me throughout our entire acquaintance. Do you know how many little girls would dare castigate a general? Only someone worthy of their attention. I don’t want a weak, whimpering thing any more than you desire a male too gutless to rein you in.”

  The arrogant man grinned all the more. “Imagine the hellions our children will be.”

  No. I would not. Not even that mind-altering scent could get me to agree to such a nightmare. “I’m not giving the academy any children.”

  “My love, since you have made it clear you do not want to spend your days in leisure locked safely in this house—” Seduction was set aside for reassurance. He pulled me closer, held me tight, and whispered in my ear. “—you will be assigned a position within the academy. So, you’ll need to come to terms with what the future holds.”

  The very idea seemed like an unwelcome knife to the gut. “You wouldn’t do that to me. I hate it there!”

  Massaging my back as he nuzzled my cheek, he reminded, “You hate me too. Perhaps, in time, you can learn to love both.”

  How was I possibly to escape such a fate? First, he had taken the fog from me. Now this? Why couldn’t I apply for positions that suited my ambition?

  “I know that look.” Subtly threatening, he traced the bone of my cheek and measured what he found in my gaze. “We will discuss your future at another time, when your head is clear and your education complete.”

  “I won’t waste my time as another decoration in your pretty office. That isn’t what I want.” And I would make him pay for it if he dared.

  “Would you rather be locked in the house?” Not an ounce of his question was playful.

  Incredulous, I fought the drowsy pull to press against him, growling, “Are you really threatening me with this?”

  “You will be appointed as the new weapons instructor for the youngest recruits.” With an expression of command I knew all too well, he added with a stern tongue, “There will be no access to the elder girls. So, don’t go getting ideas in your head that you can confuse them.”

  Because of course I would! I would warn them to flee while they could, to avoid males at all costs, tell them every last thing I had experienced regarding sex and male trickery. But deeper still, I was wounded a man who claimed to love me could be so cruel. “You would keep me away from my friends?”

  “For their own good? Yes.” Intentional additional sweetness thickened in the air, the man clearly manipulating my mind while saying things that would otherwise move me to violence. “Until they are mated, it seems unwise to mix you with the general unmated-female population. You would cause a panic, as you still do not have clarity on what you’re living through in this transition. You’re still scared, still belligerent, and we have much to sort out between us. Any advice you might give now would come from a place of a difficult adjustment to your involuntary position at my side, not natural female submission.”

  He had gone too far with the scent, my eyes and limbs so heavy I wanted to curl up in his arms and let him carry my weight.

  Yet I fought that temptation as hard as I might.

  “Don’t make me sleep.” Because with that sweetness, that sound vibrating from his chest, and the soothing warmth engulfing me, he could do as he pleased.

  He could do anything to me.

  Pulling away to look me in the eye, Cyderial showed me a face of innocence. “You were right; it’s too close in here for either of us to keep a clear head.” He reached for one of the bottles lining the shelf. “Allow me to wash your hair, and you have my word I will not make you sleep. We can talk over these complicated subjects later.”

  I didn’t trust the imperious jerk one bit, but I was in no position to fight back. “Fine.”

  That softened the man immediately, Cyderial only too happy to demonstrate all the treasures he procured to spoil me—shampoos with pretty perfumes, conditioners to soften and add shine, tonics for the skin, soaps I might sample in my half-dazed euphoria.

  Never could I have imagined how nice it might feel to have such strong hands wash my hair. Or considered leaning into someone’s strength so they could weigh my breasts and tease between my legs. Yet it was easy when Cyderial was up to no good.

  With nothing more than a few simple strokes between my legs, he brought me to a single, fluttering climax. Rocking to my toes from the unexpected burst, I rode his fingers, struggling with real irritation that it was his hand that brought me into mania and not the wriggling member straining against my lower back.

  After all, all the sweet perfume was a promise for pleasure that my body understood better than my mind. The newly awakened animal part of me craved it with such intensity I was near ready to pierce my claws into his flank and drag him where I wished. To take all I desired.

  One final caress up my seam was all he gave me before pulling away.

  Bemused, I turned, wondering why he was not advancing upon me as he had before. After all, he scented the air and sang for me, agitated me with anticipation for more. Yet, I had been abandoned, left to stand there and watch while he gripped his cock, looking me over as he savored one slow stroke from base to tip.

  That freakish thing was waving in his grip, beckoning me to make demands.

  But I found I could not move, captivated by the show of his hands on his body.

  He took great pleasure in my attention, leaving my bones practically vibrating for what was soon to be mine.

  Inside, I buzzed with want, even if I despised the owner of that organ. Clearheaded enough to consider, I knew through and through that the addiction could not be doubted. I wanted everything this man could put inside me in a way that left me salivating.

  Desire plain on my face, I wondered what he might taste like.

  I licked my lips, the jerking movements of his two fists on that wriggling monster growing violent.

  The noises he made were obscene. I should have been horrified, disgusted, but I was stuck in that steamy shower simply because it smelled too good to leave.

  And because I craved.

  A low whine left my throat, my body tingling in places that rampaging organ should’ve been.

  “No, Lorieyn. No knot unless you beg for one.” Debauched grin in place, he purred, “Not unless heat requires that I serve you.”

  Beg? He was going to leave me that way unless I begged?

  I was wrong; my head was not clear. I had to remind myself that’s why fluid flooded between my legs. This was no heat; this was nothing more than simple addiction and male tricks.

  I may have wanted it, but I didn’t need it.

  But craving set in, his movements so beautiful I breathed in time with his strokes.

  The show went on, his audience rapt.

  On a disturbing level, I sucked my lower lip into my mouth, praying he would shove me against the wall and force that writhing muscle deep into my guts. That he would make me endure him, force me past resistance with mind-blowing pleasure.

  But he was taking all the pleasure for himself, wringing his cock while working it with the aptitude of obvious practice.

  And then my fantasy was shattered.

  His first full eruption bubbled free, only to be followed by a great burst.

  Down the drain, the antidote to my new compulsion went. Seeing it wasted, I wanted to cry, shout that it was mine. Wanted to fall to my knees and scoop it up, put it inside me, and hold it in.

  Roaring his climax, he spurted again and again, calculated in his observation of my reaction.

  Part of me loved watching him this way, the veins in his neck straining, cruel lips parted, Cyderial panting in his solitary pleasure.

  But mostly, I was restless, caged. And he loved it.