Lucian.
Of course.Because what I needed right now - as I'm on the verge of spontaneously combusting from hormonal overload - was Daddy Dom Dracula himself materializing like an ominous orgasm fairy.
“Is that rhetorical,” I say, “or do you just really love narrating the obvious?”
I swear I canfeelhim through the door, standing there like a judgey gargoyle in expensive shoes, hands in his pockets, jaw clenched,posture like a blade waiting to be unsheathed.
“Just confirming you’re not dead,” he replies, dry as a bone. “Would’ve been inconvenient. And annoying.”
“Oh wow,” I mutter, pressing my forehead to the door. “Truly touching. Write that on my gravestone.”
“I’m not here to coddle you.”
“Clearly. I’d sooner get emotional support from a stapler.”
“Sodramatic,” he says, like he’s not the one who locked me in a luxury panic room and is now haunting the hallway like the sexiest threat to my sanity imaginable.
“So what are you here for?” I ask. “You get off on eavesdropping, or is this just your version of bedside manner?”
“I don’t eavesdrop,” he says, calm and cutting. “I observe.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Not creepy. Justweirdly committed. You taking notes too? Should I moan louder for the transcript?”
“I don’t need a transcript to read you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping half an octave as though it’s personally trying to undo my robe. “You’re all instinct. No discipline.”
I swear to God if I had a shoe to throw at this door, I would.
“You’re a prick,” I mutter instead.
“And you’re shaking.”
I flinch.
Iamshaking. Not in a dramatic, fainting way - more like a soda can someone’s been slowly,cruellyshaking for the last four hours.
My body is humming -again. The ache building like pressure behind my ribs. My heat hasn’t spiked yet, not fully, but it’s prowling just beneath the surface, licking at my skin.
“Ugh,” I groan. “What time is it?”
“Just after two.”
“In themorning?!” I shriek.
Pause.
"Yes, darling. That’s generally when two o’clock happens."
I slap a hand over my own face like it’ll physically smother my embarrassment.
“You’resolucky this door is solid steel.”
“You’reso lucky I haven’t opened it,” he says, dry and deadly.
“Are you done playing omnipotent hallway cryptid now?” I bite back a snarl. “Are you ready to leave me alone?”
“Is that what you want?” he says, quieter now.
“I want you to fuck off,” I snap.