[WARNING: MATURE CONTENT]
As Aurora stepped back into the hall—necklace hidden under her bodice, that secret throbbing like a second heartbeat—she ran straight into a patrol officer. Not just any guard, but **one of the King's personal enforcers**, stationed near the outer academic wing where no candidates should be wandering.
*"Lost, my lady?"*
His tone was polite—but wrong. Too precise. His eyes flicked to the door she'd just closed.
Aurora gave a tight smile. "Just missed a turn on the way to the infirmary."
He didn't move. Didn't blink.
*"The Eastern Wing is restricted after dark, especially to candidates. You'll walk with me."*
The way he said it—it wasn't a suggestion.
The guard's grip tightened around her arm.
*"The King's orders are clear,"* he growled. *"No candidate steps into the academic wing after dusk—especially not alone."*
Aurora stood still, jaw clenched. She didn't resist, but her spine stayed straight.
*"Then I'll take her myself."*
The voice came low. Smooth. Dangerous.
The guard froze.
Zev emerged from the shadows at the corridor's curve—barely audible footsteps, but his **aura hit like a winter storm**.
*"Alpha Zev…"* the guard stammered, shifting to attention. *"The order came from His Majesty himself. She was found alone—wandering—"*
"Was she?" Zev stepped closer. Not fast. Just deliberate enough to make the man sweat.
*"Funny, I don't remember asking you to monitor my property."*
Aurora's eyes widened. Zev didn't look at her—not yet. His attention was locked on the guard.
*"Sir, with respect—she was assigned to the palace. To be watched. If she's disobeying—"*
Zev's mouth curled—*not* into a smile. More like a promise.
*"If the King has questions about my assigned girl…"*
His voice dipped, barely louder than a whisper now.
*"…he's welcome to come ask me himself. Don't you think?"*
The guard swallowed hard, bowed once, and retreated like smoke.
Zev waited until the man disappeared down the hall before turning.
Then—finally—his eyes met hers.
"So," he said, voice calm but thick with warning. "What exactly were you doing outside the eastern wing at midnight?"
His head tilted, almost lazy. But his stare?
**Anything but soft.**
"Or should I just assume you like testing me when no one's watching."
Aurora's throat tightened, but she held her ground. "I needed answers."
"And did you get them?"
She hesitated. "Some."
Zev stepped closer, until there was barely a breath between them. His eyes searched hers—not just for the truth, but for the weight of it.
"You're hiding something."
She didn't deny it.
Instead, she met his gaze, steady. "So are you."
For a moment, neither of them moved. Just the torchlight crackling in the walls and the weight of things unspoken.
Then Zev leaned in, his voice a dangerous whisper near her ear.
"You ever sneak off like that again, Aurora…"
His breath brushed her skin.
"…don't expect me to stop with just words."
He pulled back, jaw tense, but his eyes lingered.
"Now go. Before I stop caring how close the King's eyes are."
Aurora walked past him—shoulders straight, blood roaring in her ears—but she felt the heat of him behind her the entire way.
—
Aurora stepped into the quiet of Zev's private rooms, the heavy door sighing closed behind her. She hadn't meant to linger in the archives all day—but dusk had melted into night, and now every nerve in her body felt frayed with exhaustion and memory.
She moved without thinking. Fingers loosened the ties of her gown, the red fabric slipping down her shoulders, pooling at her waist. Steam drifted from the basin in the corner, still warm from the staff's earlier preparation. She padded across the rugs barefoot, quiet as thought.
In the dim reflection of the mirror, she caught sight of herself—bare shoulders, hair in one hand as she twisted it up, exposing the nape of her neck. Vulnerable. Unarmored.
Then the door clicked.
"You missed dinner," came the voice behind her—cool, unreadable.
Aurora startled, arms immediately crossing her chest as she turned. "Zev— I didn't know you were—"
"Clearly." His eyes didn't leave her.
She grabbed a towel from the stand beside her, clutching it to her chest, but his gaze lingered—not cruel, not possessive. Just aware. Sharp. Like he was seeing every inch of her and every emotion hidden underneath.
"If I had known you'd be undressing in my room tonight…" he said, voice low as stormlight, "I'd have made sure to arrive sooner."
Aurora flushed, but didn't drop her eyes. "I didn't mean— I just needed to—"
Zev took another step, slow and certain, the door clicking shut behind him with finality.
"You needed to what?"
His voice curled around the edges of the room—unhurried, coaxing, dangerous.
"To think? To breathe? Or just to forget you were mine for a while?"
Aurora's lips parted, but nothing came out.
He moved closer, each step quiet but deliberate, until the towel in her hands was the only thing separating them. His eyes dropped once—slowly—to where the edge of her gown still clung to her hips, then rose again.
"Did you spend the whole day learning things you weren't meant to know," he murmured, "or just running from the fact that I already knew?"
Aurora's breath hitched. Her fingers clutched the towel tighter.
Zev's hand lifted—not to take it, not yet. Just a single knuckle brushing the curve of her shoulder. His touch was soft. Calculated. Like he wanted her to flinch… or not.
"You're quieter now," he said, gaze unreadable. "Is that because you regret where you went… or because you liked what you found?"
She swallowed. "Why are you speaking like that?"
Zev's expression flickered, amused—just barely.
"Because the last time I let you walk off on your own, I spent the night reining in half the guard staff and swallowing down every instinct I had to go after you."
His hand finally dropped to his side—but the space between them didn't feel wider.
"So no, Aurora. I'm not angry that you undressed in my room without warning."
A breath.
"I'm angry that you still think I wouldn't set this entire palace on fire just to keep you from breaking."
She blinked. Just once.
And for the first time since her hands had trembled at the mistress's door, her shoulders slowly, quietly… dropped.
He saw it. Of course he did.
And his voice lowered again, velvet-soft but knifed in steel.
"So if you're going to hide something from me, be sure it's worth surviving my patience."
Then—
"Finish your bath. But leave the towel."
He turned toward the shadows near the window, already peeling off his cuffs like it cost him nothing.
"You don't get to be shy and secretive in the same night, Aurora. Choose one."
—
Aurora stepped into the bathroom, steam already curling over the floor like silk. A soft glow lit the walls, and the quiet rush of water from the filled basin hummed like a lullaby.
She hadn't realized night had fallen. Hours in the restricted wing had dissolved into shadows and secrets. Now, with the palace hushed and her skin prickling from what she'd learned, she needed warmth. And calm.
She untied the sash at her waist. The red gown slid down her frame like a whisper, pooling at her ankles.
Her fingers gathered her hair, pinning it atop her head, exposing the full line of her bare neck and spine.
She stepped into the warm bath, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
And she didn't hear the door open.
**Zev walked in silently**, a towel slung around his hips, water clinging to the sharp lines of his chest. He said nothing—just moved toward the sink, grabbing a brush, pretending disinterest as he began brushing his teeth.
But his eyes flicked up once. Then again.
He saw everything.
Aurora stiffened, sensing him before she fully turned her head. Then… she kept bathing.
She'd never stood bare in front of a man before—not like this. Not deliberately. Her heart thudded wildly beneath the skin of her chest, but she kept her posture serene.
When she slid the soap down her arm, she saw him in the mirror, *pause*.
His jaw ticked.
Her lips twitched into a smile.
*"He walked into my trap anyway,"* she thought. *"I mustn't fail."*
She continued slowly—soap gliding over shoulder, collarbone, thigh. His arm muscles flexed. He brushed harder. But his eyes kept lifting when he thought she wouldn't notice.
Each motion drew him tighter.
Each drop of water sliding down her body wound him higher.
Finally, when her skin gleamed with heat and her resolve had settled deep in her chest, she stepped from the water. Quiet. Bare. Dripping.
She didn't dry herself.
Instead, she walked toward him—intentional steps, silent and slow—until she stood just beside him, watching his reflection as he rinsed his mouth.
"Here," she said softly, reaching to brush the lingering streak of toothpaste from the corner of his lip.
Her body leaned forward slightly, hands behind her back—her breasts rising with each breath, close enough to brush his arm.
Zev went still.
*Is she doing this on purpose?* he asked himself, jaw tense. *Or is she just… innocent?*
But innocence didn't look like that. Not with the way her gaze met his—steady, shimmering, resolute.
Then he leaned closer, his lips nearly brushing her jaw.
"I never thought you'd take the challenge," he whispered.
He turned his head slightly, his voice low and playful against the static air between them.
"Stop talking. You're making me lose my courage," she said softly and breathless
Zev smirked.
"Yes… ma," he said, amused. Then—lowering his voice—
"Need help? Yes? No? Maybe… why?"
Her fingers reached up, gently pressing against his eyelids.
"Just close your eyes."
He did.
No words. No breath.
And then—her lips touched his.
Soft. Brave. Shivering.
Zev responded instantly.
His mouth moved against hers with quiet force, but when his hands tried to curl around her back—
"Don't touch me," she breathed into him, still kissing, still trembling.
He obeyed. Barely. His hands hovered beside her, fists clenched.
But then he pushed her gently, pressing her against the wall, one hand behind her head to shield her from the stone.
The **shower lever clicked**.
Water burst around them—hot and sudden. Drenching them both.
"I like it this way," he murmured darkly. "Wet. Reckless. Yours."
Still, his hands stayed low. Controlled. Waiting.
Until Aurora's fingers trailed along the edge of his towel. Her touch ghosted over the curve of his hip.
Zev groaned—raw and guttural.
"Aurora…" His voice broke like thunder. "Are you punishing me… or seducing me?"
"Both," she whispered, rising onto her toes, arms wrapping around his neck, her chest pressed fully to his.
He growled, deep and primal.
"I can't take this any longer," he muttered, hoarse. "Sorry, Rabbit. I love breaking rules."
His towel hit the floor.
He lifted her, easy as breath, water cascading off them in sheets.
He carried her to the bed, lowered her gently, crawling over her like a storm given flesh.
She let out a soft breath—half hesitation, half surrender.
Zev leaned close, cupping her cheek, brushing a soaked strand from her eyes.
"I'll be gentle," he whispered.
A beat passed. His lips brushed her temple.
"Unless you tell me not to be."