Page 39 of Madness & Mercy
I can feel his power radiating off the walls here. It’s in the polished floors, the way the staff doesn’t evenlookat him as we pass. The way the air bends around him.
And I follow him inside.
Because I’m still playing the part.
Because I’m still in control.
Because soon enough… this kingdom?
It’ll be burning around him.
I stop in front of the door to the corner suite, but Nico keeps walking, only realizing I’ve stayed behind when the sound of my footsteps disappears.
He turns, smirking as he backtracks a few steps.
“They’re reinforcing the locks,” he says, voice casual, eyes anything but. “You can stay in my room until it’s done.”
I level him with a look sharp enough to cut glass.
He steps closer, lowering his voice just enough to make it dangerous.
“Relax,”he murmurs. “I won’t try anything.”
Then, with a grin that makes my skin crawl and burn all at once, he whispers,
“Unless you want me to.”
I should say no.
Should shove past him, demand another room, sleep on the fucking floor if I have to.Anythingbut his bed.
But the look in his eyes is maddening, like he already knows I’ll fold. Like I always do.
My jaw clenches. I don’t say yes. I just brush past him with a muttered,“Fine.”
He chuckles behind me, low and satisfied, and I hate how it sinks into my skin.
The walk to his room is silent, but the tension coils tighter with every step. His scent lingers in the hall and I try not to breathe it in. Try not to think about the way my body still aches from earlier. Stillwants.
The door to his room is already open, of course. Like heknewI’d give in eventually.
It’s exactly what I expected. Dark, cold elegance. Minimal. Expensive. No warmth. Just sharp edges and clean lines, like him.
He gestures inside. “Make yourself comfortable.”
I step in slowly, my eyes scanning for danger I won’t find. The real threat isn’t in the room itself. It’shim.
I hover near the wall while he moves toward the dresser, tugging off his jacket with practiced ease. The muscles in his back ripple under the fabric, and I force myself to look away.
“Calm down,” he says again, amused by my discomfort. “I already told you, not going to jump you.”
“I never said you would.”
He tosses the jacket over the back of a chair and turns, eyes glittering with that same predatory calm.
“No. But you werehopingI might.”
My throat tightens. “You’re delusional.”
