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Yanking a large linen from the counter, I wrapped it around my body and made to leave the bathroom. To get away from Sylvan. Another splash announced his approach, and when I turned, his arms wrapped around me. He tucked me against his chest, his chin grazing the top of my head. I inhaled his scent, ours, even after the bath. Gods, how I would miss it.

I wished we could stay longer in this place, frozen in time. Away from the world. Away from the politics and the familial discord.

But that’s not who we were. He had to get back to his pack. I had to get back to my prison. At least I had the university to look forward to.

I disentangled myself from him and left the room without looking back, but he followed, of course. “Aura, what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“I can tell there’s something you want to say.”

We both kept our voices down, aware of Magdalena sleeping in her room. “I always have a lot to say,” I told him.

He smirked. “That’s for sure.”

Magdalena had left a neatly folded stack of clothing on the couch. I started to dress myself while Sylvan stood there, a towel around his waist.

“So why don’t you speak them aloud?” he asked as I tugged the dress over my head. It was similar to the one I’d borrowed from Sylvan, but dark purple linen.

“Because they don’t matter.”

“Your thoughts matter.”

“Not these.” My gaze flicked to his. I squeezed my hair out with the towel, but even with my eyes closed, I could feel Sylvan’s gaze on me. “Stop looking at me.”

“Stop withholding your thoughts.”

I draped the towel over my shoulder and started to braid my damp hair, weaving the black and white strands with too-quick fingers. It was a messy braid, but I didn’t care. I secured it with a ribbon, tying a knot rather than a bow and flung it over my shoulder. It hit my back, heavier than I expected, and I huffed out a breath.

“Aura, do you want me to stay? I can figure⁠—”

“No!” I threw the towel aside. “I want you to go back to your life. And I will go back to mine.”

He was quiet, but there was so much in his eyes that made it clear his mind was far from silent. I ignored how clearly I felt his reluctance. All that mattered was that when he spoke, he sounded certain. “Alright, I’ll leave. But should you need a partner next Heat⁠—”

“—then I’ll find one.”

It was the stench of envy that forced my gaze back to him. His fists were clenched, nostrils flared. “I’m not yours, Sylvan. Nor can I ever be. I’m a vampire, first and foremost.”

“No,” he said. “You are neither vampire nor lycan. You’re uniquely Aurelia Nygaard, and anyone who tells you otherwise, yourself included, is foolish or in denial. Stop trying to fit yourself into a fucking box. You deserve better than that.”

Bitter laughter filled the room before I realized it originated from me. “You don’t know what I deserve, because you don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“Yeah?” He stepped closer to me, and I tipped my head back to meet his glower. “You don’t know what I’m capable of either.”

The depth of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. “Great,” I said. “Then we can both be ignorant. Separately.”

His gaze softened rather than hardened. He rested his hands on my shoulders and asked with a gentle grace I didn’t expect, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“But the cure⁠—”

“I’ll figure it out. I’ll contact you as needed, and we can find a way to work from a distance. The university has Raven Post for a reason.”

Hurt flickered across his face, but he nodded again. “Well,” he said, “I suppose that’s that.”

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