Page 65 of Till Death and Daisies Bloom

Lust's brow furrowed. "You removed your own emotions? Juniper, emotions exist in equilibrium for a reason. Remove one and the others intensify to fill the void."

We had reached the cottage. I fumbled with the key, my fingers still trembling slightly from magickal exhaustion. Lust reached over and steadied my hand with his, helping me fit the key into the lock. The door swung open, and I expected him to bid me goodnight. Instead, he followed me inside without asking.

I was too tired to object. The cottage felt smaller somehow, more confining than it had earlier when I'd been riding high on fearless confidence.

Lust moved to the kitchen with surprising familiarity, returning with water. His expression was more serious than I'd ever seen it.

"Drink," he instructed. "Magick requires grounding. Water helps."

I obeyed, draining half the glass in one long swallow. The water felt incredible—cool and clean as it slid down my throat, somehow anchoring me back to my physical body.

"How did you find me so quickly?" I asked when I could speak again.

Lust sat beside me on the couch, maintaining a respectful distance. "I felt the surge of power. It was...distinctive." Something in his tone made me look up sharply.

"What aren't you telling me?"

He sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair–a surprisingly human gesture. For a moment, he looked almost vulnerable.

"Using magick the way you did tonight. Rage magick, fear magick–it leaves a signature. I recognized it." He paused. "It was similar to what you did at the matchmaking party, but stronger. Much stronger."

A chill ran through me despite my exhaustion. "Am I dangerous?"

Lust's expression softened, just a fraction. "Everyone is dangerous, Juniper. The difference between monsters and heroes isn't whether they have the capacity to harm others. It's whether that thought keeps them up at night."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. In the soft lamplight, the angles of his face seemed less harsh, more human somehow. "You lost control tonight, but your instincts were good. You were protecting someone. That matters."

"I lost control," I repeated quietly, the words scraping my throat. "I wanted to scare him, but then it just...kept building. I didn't want to stop." My hands twisted in my lap. "I liked how it felt. I liked watching him suffer."

"You were protecting someone," he countered. "Your intentions were good, even if your execution was enthusiastic."

That startled a laugh from me–a small, brittle sound in the quiet cottage. "Enthusiastic? I nearly crushed him with pure terror."

"But you didn't." Lust set his glass down. "You could have done far worse, but you didn't. Even without fear to temper your anger, some part of you held back."

I wasn't sure if that was meant to be comforting. I stared down at my hands, half-expecting to see residual crimson energy clinging to my fingers. They looked normal–just hands. Human hands. But they had channeled something powerful tonight, something that had felt both foreign and strangely familiar.

"Let me help you," Lust said, his voice gentler than I'd ever heard it. "Your energies are still unbalanced from the extraction experiment. I can feel it; you're running too hot, too sharp. It's not sustainable."

I looked at him skeptically. "Your sin is lust, not emotional healing."

A hint of his usual smirk returned, though it seemed softer somehow. "Sex magick can be used for more than just sex, Juniper. It's about energy flow, connection, balance..." He raised his hands, hovering them near but not touching my face. "May I?"

The request surprised me–so unlike his usual presumptuous self. In the short time I'd known him, Lust had never asked permission for anything. The deference felt significant somehow, like he was acknowledging something important about boundaries.

I'd had so few real choices in my life. Everything had been decided for me–my education, my role in the coven, my marriage, my future. Even my death hadn't been my choice. But this moment, this decision, was entirely mine to make.

And after tonight, after feeling that intoxicating rush of power and control, I wanted something for myself. Something that felt good instead of terrifying or overwhelming.

"Yes," I said softly.

Lust placed his hands gently on either side of my face, his touch warm against my skin. His fingers curled lightly at my temples, thumbs resting just beneath my cheekbones. The contact was intimate without being invasive, careful without being timid.

"Close your eyes," he instructed, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "Try to relax."

I did as he asked, letting my eyes drift shut. For a moment, nothing happened. Then a gentle warmth emanated from his palms, seeping into my skin. Not the crimson energy of my own magick, but something golden and honeyed, flowing into me like liquid sunlight.

A soft sigh escaped my lips as the energy spread, moving through my body in gentle waves. It was nothing like I'd expected his magick to feel–there was no overwhelming desire,no loss of control, no sense of being manipulated or pushed toward anything. Instead, it felt like being wrapped in the warmest blanket on the coldest night, like drinking hot tea when you're chilled to the bone.

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