“How are you feeling, princess?” Riot asked, helping Cass sit up when his arms trembled with the effort.
“Like someone replaced my bones with overcooked pasta,” Cass managed. Then he noticed the cream-colored cardstock that had been slipped under the hotel door. The thick paper was unmistakable even from across the room. “Oh no.”
Riot followed his gaze. “Stay put.”
The letterhead was definitely Elysian—raw paper with flowing script that Brother Matthias insisted reflected “spiritual elegance.” Riot’s jaw tightened as he read, and Cass watched his knuckles go white where he gripped the message.
“What does it say?”
“Brother Matthias wants to meet. Today. Two o’clock at the Home Away Café.”
Cass’s heart lurched. “What time is it now?”
“A little after noon.”
I slept that long? On top of him?
“I have to go,” Cass said, scrambling to fix his robes, suddenly very aware that he was still shirtless. His scars were just—there, visible, and the room felt too bright and he couldn’t remember where he’d put his—”If I don’t show up, he’ll know something’s wrong—”
“You’re not going anywhere smelling like this.” Riot caught his wrist, pulling him back. “Princess, you’re broadcasting pre-heat like a fucking beacon. If I can barely think straight around you, what do you think your corporate handler will notice?”
Cass flinched at the harsh word, but the grip on his wrist was firm, and his body responded with a rush of heat up his arm. That sound slipped out again—soft, involuntary—and his face flushed darker.
“I still have the wellness supplements,” Cass said, pulling away to grab the bottle from the nightstand. “The ones Brother Matthias gave me. Maybe if I just take them for the meeting...”
Riot went very still. “Those things have been controlling your body for years.”
“But they worked.” The words felt wrong in his mouth, but the familiar shape of the bottle was comforting. The weight of it in his palm. The way he’d reached for it every morning since he was sixteen without questioning why. “Maybe I need more than Iused to take and that’s why they stopped working. I’ll take three, just to calm everything down for the meeting.”
“Don’t.” The single word carried enough authority to freeze Cass in place. Riot moved closer, and suddenly Cass was backed against the wall, very aware that beneath the sweet scent there was still the Berserker scent of cordite. “I’m telling you, princess. Don’t take those.”
“You’re worried about me,” he managed as his stomach churned. “That’s really sweet.”
Something shadowed Riot’s face—frustration, maybe, as his hand came up to Cass’s throat, resting there.
“Sweet,” Riot repeated roughly. “Right.”
“You are.” Cass couldn’t help leaning into the touch, even though his legs felt weak and his stomach ached. “You’ve been taking care of me. I’ve never had anyone worry about me like this before.”
Riot’s thumb pressed against the pulse point in Cass’s throat. For a moment, they just stared at each other—Riot’s eyes more gold than green, his breathing changed, his gaze intense and focused in an expression that made Cass feel like prey. His whole body was trembling now, and he didn’t know why. A high, thin sound escaped him, and his face burned with shame.
What is wrong with me?
It was probably that intensity—and the desperate need to escape sensations he couldn’t name—that made his next decision feel reasonable.
Cass twisted away from Riot’s grip and dry-swallowed three pills before Riot could stop him.
The change in Riot’s expression was immediate. His eyes went flat and predatory, the gold swallowing more of the green.
“That,” Riot said quietly, “was a mistake.”
“I’ll be fine. I just need to get through the meeting with Brother Matthias, and then I’ll come right back.”
“I need to check the pharmacy,” Riot grumbled. “They said three days—that’s today. If the shipment came in...”
“Your medication?” Cass felt a pang of guilt. Riot had been taking care of him for days—of course he needed his own supplies. “You should go.”
“I don’t like leaving you alone. Especially not to meet with—” Riot’s jaw tightened so hard Cass could see the muscle jump. “Him.”
