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I scoffed at the nickname, but my heart lifted at the sight of her. “Good morning, Mags.” I clutched the sheet against my bare chest.

I wanted to say so many things to her. Thank you for letting me have the most orgasmic few days of my life in your house. For not saying anything about the carriage incident. For risking your reputation and leaving your class to get me to safety. For not judging me.

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said. “In fact, please don’t.” She turned, wiping a glass clean with a kitchen linen. Her serious exterior cracked, and her laughter bubbled out.

“I’ll spare you all the details,” I said.

“Though, as far as lycan anatomy goes, I am curious about the⁠—”

“Good morning.” We both turned to the door to the bathroom as Sylvan stepped out. His torso was bare, and though I’d seen it so many times by now, I still stared. My Heat may be over, but his rugged allure and incredible physique remained, and I couldn’t help but gawk. “By all means, Aura. Objectify me.”

I scowled at him, and he held up both hands and grinned. “Would you like a bath? I filled the tub, and Magdalena was kind to give me some dried flowers and such. I may have added too much, but it’s probably good in this case to wash my scent off you.” And vice versa, he failed to say.

As I stood, securing the sheet around me, Magdalena filled the cup she’d just toweled dry with a rich red liquid. Saliva gathered in my mouth at the sight.

“Looks like your appetite is back,” she said. She handed me the glass and steered me toward Sylvan. “I’m going to bed, but you two …” She made a vague gesture as if to say do whatever you have to do. She gave my shoulder a squeeze before heading off toward the room she’d abandoned for the past few days.

Sylvan smiled and held the bathroom door open. I stepped into the space, already basking in the warmth from the steam and the fragrance. I let the sheet fall to the ground and told Sylvan to get out so I could relieve myself. Once I had, I stepped into the tub and sank down into the water. A knock on the door preceded Sylvan’s smooth voice. “Care for company?” he asked. “I’ll behave.”

“What if I don’t want you to behave?” I asked.

“Then I won’t.”

I swirled my hands through the water, watching the dried flowers ripple. “What kind of alpha are you, anyway?” I teased.

There was a beat of silence, then the door opened, and he said, “One who prioritizes the wellbeing of his …” He pursed his lips in thought, and I stared, waiting for him to complete the sentence. My fingers drummed along the edge of the tub, and my eyes rolled.

“Oh, for the gods’ sake, your what?”

“My wolfsbane,” he said. The smile that slowly stretched across his face was so charming it should’ve been illegal.

I turned my focus from his face and back to the water. “I’m not sure about that epithet.”

“Good word, but why not?”

“Why that is the better question.”

“Because …” He tossed his trousers aside and stepped toward the tub. “I’m convinced you’ll be my undoing—the sweetest poison—and I’m not sure I want it any other way.”

My heart clenched as I watched him sink into the water across from me, his legs brushing mine. “Don’t say that. You know this has to end.”

He leaned back and fixed his steady gaze on me. “I know.”

Our eyes never left each other’s, nor did we speak. Only the swishing of the water and ticking of the clock on the wall filled the quiet of the space. His lips parted as if to say something, but he pressed them together again. Rather than words, his hand came to rest on mine against the edge of the tub. His thumb stroked over the back of my wrist—soothing, saddening. There was no need for us to speak of what would come next. It was simple.

We would go our separate ways as if none of this had ever happened.

I’d been prepared for that. I’d wanted that. So why was it that the thought made my eyes sting? Why was the accompanying emotion behind it a searing annoyance? I thought of Nygaard Manor. Empty. Forlorn. Cold. And I thought of this space. What a juxtaposition.

Any space with Sylvan felt warm. Safe. Full.

No. I was above such thoughts. Nygaards didn’t need others to survive. We had blazing hearths and nectar for warmth, sentinels and magical wards for safety, and material possessions for fulfillment. We thrived on individuality. We thrived on power.

Except no amount of currency, power, or sentinels could’ve gotten me through this experience the way Sylvan had.

I rose from the water so quickly it splashed over the sides and drenched the floor.

“Aura?” Sylvan called out.