The bath steamed like a cauldron.
Candles dripped their wax along the marble edges, shadows dancing, faces half-lit, half-swallowed by the dark. Adrian had not meant to come here. Or maybe he had—who can say? Desire drives a man more surely than reason.
The women were already waiting.
Althea, her bronze skin gleaming wet beneath the rising mist, stretched as if she were carved from some forgotten goddess. Cassia laughed, splashing the water, her pale hair sticking to her cheeks, her voice sharp, cruel, delightful. Nyra said nothing, only watched, her dark eyes still and heavy like deep water where one might drown.
Selene was there too. And Liora, of course. Always Liora.
Adrian froze in the doorway. He should have left—God, he should have left! But the sight was too much, too blinding, too human. His body betrayed him. His pulse thundered.
"Come," Althea said. Just one word. It was command, invitation, condemnation all at once.
Cassia giggled. "Don't be shy. Or are you still pretending you're a gentleman?"
He stepped forward. Shoes against stone. The heat hit him like fire, like guilt made flesh. He undressed with trembling hands, feeling the eyes, all the eyes, upon him. He slipped into the water, and the water closed around his chest, his throat, his mind.
They surrounded him. Fingers brushing his shoulders, lips grazing his neck, laughter close enough to burn. He could not tell one hand from another. Whose lips touched his jaw? Whose body pressed against his side? It no longer mattered. He was drowning and exalting all at once.
Selene's gaze cut through it. She didn't smile. She didn't touch him—not at first. She only watched. And that was worse than any kiss, worse than any caress. Her silence accused him, condemned him, even as his body betrayed itself to every other touch.
"Look at him," Liora murmured, voice thick with amusement. "He pretends he's lost, but he's enjoying every moment. Isn't that right, Adrian?"
He tried to answer. His lips parted, but only a broken laugh came out. He didn't recognize it as his own.
They laughed with him, at him, around him. The water churned, steam rising higher. Time fractured, moments blurring. Desire, shame, desire again. It was endless, circular, a wheel turning, grinding him down.
And then—Selene moved.
She slid into the water without a word, her body cutting through steam, her eyes fixed only on him. She didn't laugh. She didn't tease. She reached for him, and when her hand touched his cheek, every other hand fell away.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Adrian trembled, his breath ragged. "Selene…" he whispered, and the sound was both prayer and curse.
Her lips brushed his, slow, burning, inevitable. The world narrowed to her alone. The others faded, though they still watched, still smiled, still whispered. It didn't matter. Only she mattered.
But in her kiss there was cruelty. He felt it—the edge of mockery, the taste of power. She owned him now, not by touch but by knowledge. She knew how far he had fallen.
When she pulled away, her eyes gleamed. "Do you see, Adrian?" she murmured. "You think you are at the center, but you're only a thread. A thread in the web. And the web tightens."
Liora's laughter sliced through the steam. "Careful, Selene. He might break."
Selene didn't look away from him. "No," she said softly. "He won't break. Not yet. Desire makes men stronger before it destroys them."
The words struck him harder than any slap. Stronger, yes—he felt it, the fire, the ecstasy coursing through his veins. But destruction lurked in it too. He could taste it in the water, in the laughter, in Selene's kiss.
He wanted to leave. He wanted to stay. He wanted everything and nothing.
When at last he staggered from the bath, his body trembling, his head light, he caught his reflection in the mirror across the room.
He did not recognize himself. His eyes were wild. His lips were swollen. His face carried not joy, not peace, but hunger—raw, consuming hunger.
And in that moment, he hated himself. He loved himself. He hated the women. He loved them. He loved Selene most of all, and he hated her more than all the rest combined.
The house hummed with silence as he dressed again, water dripping from his skin, heart still racing.
The game had deepened.
And he was lost inside it.