The late afternoon light spilled through the windows, golden and soft, catching in the tangled strands of my hair. My body was still humming, not with nerves, not with dread, but with something I didn't have a word for. I curled tighter into the sheets, staring at the ceiling, at the shifting patterns of Malvor's realm that seemed to echo the unsteady rhythm inside my chest. I'd done this before. Gods, I'd done this a thousand times. Bodies, skin, heat, the rise and fall of practiced gasps and cries. I had been trained for it, sculpted for it. I'd given men, and sometimes women, their pride wrapped in my moans, my trembling, my perfect performance. That was the job. The survival. You make them believe they are the best thing to ever touch you, and you live another day. But Malvor… he didn't want that.
Even before this bond tethered us together, before I could feel his chaos sparking down my spine, he'd sought me. Not my performance. Me. Every kiss had been slow, deliberate, demanding honesty I didn't know how to give. Every touch chased the places that made me gasp, not the places I'd been trained to react to. And the worst part? He noticed. Every. Time.
The bond only made it worse or better. Depending on how you looked at it. He knew when I faked. The emptiness rang through him, and he refused it. Ignored it. Denied it. Until all I had left were the unguarded, messy sounds I couldn't swallow back. And when they broke out of me, raw, unscripted, he drank them down like they were the only truth he'd ever wanted. That was new. Terrifying. Addictive.
I rolled onto my side, clutching the pillow, biting back the smile threatening to tug at my lips. Because gods old and new, if I wasn't careful, I was going to start believing him. Start believing I could be more than trained responses and carved skin. Start believing I could want him. I shut that thought down fast. Too dangerous. Too big. I wasn't ready for that truth. Not yet. But still… my body remembered. The way his hands steadied me, the way his mouth worshiped instead of demanded, the way he groaned like I was the divine indulgence. And for the first time in my life, pleasure hadn't been a performance. It had been mine. Mine.
I pressed the heels of my hands to my eyes, smothering the sudden sting there. Falling for him? Gods above, help me, maybe I already was. But if Malvor ever found that out, I was doomed.
Malvor, king of subject changes, leaned back in his chair. "Annie, my queen. I told you I would take you to the beach." He paused dramatically, waiting for me to roll my eyes.
"But I would take you anywhere," he added. "So where would you want to go? My treat. I have nothing I am doing today. Well, nothing more than normal." His grin widened. "We could get out for a few days. Enjoy ourselves. You and me and some wine."
I swirled the last bit of coffee in my cup, watching the liquid settle like I was watching the possibilities take shape. He meant it. He would take me anywhere. Anywhere. The most extravagant, ridiculous trip in the world, and he'd snap his fingers and make it happen. But what did I want? Not extravagance. Not spectacle. Something simple. Something real.
"The countryside," I said finally, surprising even myself.
His brows shot up. "The countryside?"
I nodded. "Somewhere quiet. Somewhere warm. Rolling hills, little cottages, maybe a vineyard or two. I want to wake up to fresh air and no responsibilities. Just good food, good wine, and maybe even a boat ride."
Malvor clutched his chest like I'd proposed marriage. "Annie. My Annie. I love that idea. Look at you, choosing something so incredibly romantic." His brows danced. "Are you planning to seduce me?"
I snorted. "I'm planning to drink wine, eat amazing food, and maybe push you into a lake."
He beamed, absolutely delighted. "You know what? That sounds perfect."
He snapped his fingers. The world tilted, and the next moment we were standing in the middle of rolling green hills that stretched forever. Wildflowers burst in clusters, the air warm and soft against my skin. In the distance, a small villa shimmered like a secret waiting to be found, vineyards sprawling out around it, a lake glimmering under the sun.
I blinked. "Malvor…"
"Welcome to our countryside getaway, my darling," he said, sweeping his arms wide. "Wine, food, lakes, and plenty of opportunity for you to shove me into a body of water. Your wish is my command."
He pointed over the hill. "Right there is my villa."
I crossed my arms. "Of course you own a villa."
He gasped, hand over his chest. "Annie, dearest, of course I own a villa. I own many villas. Estates, palaces, islands, real estate is a wise investment."
"You're just old," I deadpanned.
His gasp this time could've won him an award. "Annie! I am an ageless being of infinite charm and wit! I will remind you, my sweet mortal, that by most human standards, you are also old."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he smirked before I could. "Granny Annie," he said, savoring every syllable.
I scowled. He lived for that scowl. "Oh, don't be like that," he teased, bumping my shoulder. "I should get you a cane. A little rocker for the porch. Maybe some reading glasses so you can squint at books and rant about how things were better 'back in your day.'"
"This trip was a mistake," I muttered, already regretting my choices.
Malvor just grinned. "Oh, Granny Annie, we both know you're thrilled to be here with me."
His hand slipped into mine like it belonged there, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. Then he lifted my hand to his lips, kissing me softly, golden eyes gleaming. "Ready, my love?"
The words landed heavy in my chest. Smooth, effortless, but too deep to ignore. Before I could untangle what they meant, he tugged me forward. We crested the hill together. The villa below looked like something out of a dream, sun-warmed stone, terracotta rooftops glowing in the afternoon light, framed by swaying cypress trees. Vines crawled up its arches and balconies, while rows of grapes stretched out in tidy green lines across the valley. The air smelled of lavender and citrus, rich and intoxicating, like the land itself was exhaling.
"This is yours?" I asked, still reeling.
He smirked. "Surprised?"
"Honestly? Yes. I expected something ridiculous. A castle made of playing cards, a house floating upside down, something absurd."
"Annie, please. I am cultured. My taste is impeccable."
I raised an eyebrow.
He sighed dramatically. "Fine. I do have an upside-down house somewhere. But this—" his hand swept out toward the villa, the vines, the golden fields, "this is for relaxation. A place to indulge." His gaze flicked to me, lingering, unreadable. "For pleasure."
My breath caught, but he was already grinning again, tugging me forward. "Come, Annie. Let's indulge."
Hand in hand, we descended the hill, the warm breeze curling around us like an embrace.