Page 158 of Without a Trace
I sank deeper into the water until it lapped at my collarbone, skin flushed and oversensitive, heartbeat dragging slow in my chest.
Trace sat across the room, arms braced loosely on his knees, unmoving. Watching without really watching.
I didn’t bother looking at him. “Why’d you follow me?”
The question sat between us, bare and rough. He didn’t rush to answer.
“Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
That old ache scratched up my throat. I swirled one hand through the bathwater, watching the ripples.
“You always say that. But I don’t think you came to make sure I was okay,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I think you came because you knew I’d start asking questions.”
Trace didn’t answer, but his silence spoke loud enough.
I turned my head toward him—not fully, just enough to catch the outline of him in the steam. Elbows still on his knees. Shoulders tight.
“That summer,” I said. “You left without a word. Not even a goodbye.”
He shifted slightly, but I didn’t stop.
“I thought it was me. Thought maybe I’d made it too hard, or too obvious, or too much.” My throat scraped. “But it was this, wasn’t it? The bond. You felt it even then.”
I sat up a little straighter, knees still drawn in, fingers tightening around the edge of the tub. “It makes more sensenow. Why you couldn’t stay. Why you looked at me like you hated wanting me. Like you were already breaking the rules.” I sighed.
“I didn’t choose,” I whispered. “I didn’t know how. I wanted both of you—and that scared the hell out of me.”
His voice came low. “It scared me too.”
I finally met his eyes. “So why leave?”
Trace stood, slowly, and crossed the room until he was beside the tub. He knelt, forearms resting on the edge, face too close to bear.
“Because I was already yours,” he said. “And I knew it wasn’t just me.”
“I hated you for leaving,” I admitted.
“I hated me too,” he said. “But I was trying to protect you from something I didn’t even understand yet.”
His gaze dropped to the edge of the tub. To the water beading on my skin. “We were already too close. The bond was there, even if we didn’t name it. And the Order…” His voice trailed. “They were already watching. Waiting. You were supposed to stay hidden.”
I dragged my wet foot up the opposite leg, letting the water shift as I turned toward him. “So what now? We braid friendship bracelets and sacrifice a goat under the moonlight?”
Trace huffed. “Don’t tempt me.”
I smirked. “You’d actually look hot in a ceremonial robe. Maybe nothing underneath.”
His brow lifted just enough to tell me he was playing along. “Only if you wear the crown. Or nothing at all.”
“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already claimed the throne,” I said, tipping my head back against the tub edge. “Queen of chaos. Ruler of forbidden sex magic.”
He moved closer, arm resting on the porcelain, his face only a few inches from mine. “You’re kind of into this, aren’t you?”
I arched a brow. “Into what?”
“The bond,” he said, mouth twitching. “The ancient, forbidden, dangerous connection that makes your skin throb every time I look at you too long.”
I shrugged one bare shoulder, eyes half-lidded. “I mean… it has its perks.”
