Chapter 4

The night got worse.

The ache turned into a fire. It started in my bones, a deep, grinding heat, and spread out until my whole skin felt like it was on fire. I stripped off my suit jacket, my tie, but it didn’t help. Sweat soaked through my shirt.

I stumbled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. In the mirror, I looked wild. My hair was plastered to my forehead. My blue eyes were wide, glassy with pain and confusion. My skin was flushed.

And that scent… that sharp, clean scent of frost and ozone was stronger now, filling the small room. It smelled… powerful. Alien. It scared me.

A fresh wave of pain hit, so intense I cried out. My legs gave way and I slid to the cool tile floor, curling into a ball. It felt like my insides were being ripped apart and put back together wrong. My muscles spasmed. My breath came in ragged, painful gasps.

What’s happening to me?

I thought I was going to die, alone on a bathroom floor in a mansion in Italy. The thought was almost funny. My father wanted me to save the family, and instead, I was going to die as a secret in a locked room.

The pain crested, a white-hot agony that wiped out all thought. I think I blacked out for a second.

When I came to, I was shivering, soaked in sweat. The fire had ebbed, but a new feeling took its place. A deep, hollow need. An emptiness so vast it felt like a physical hole in my chest. It was worse than the pain. The pain was an attack. This… this was a starvation.

I needed… I didn’t know what I needed. I just knew I couldn’t be alone. The silence of the room was crushing me.

I dragged myself off the floor, leaning heavily on the sink. My legs shook. I needed to get out. I needed… air. Something. I staggered to the bedroom door, pounding weakly on the thick wood.

“Hello? Is anyone there? Please…”

No answer. Of course not. The admiral had given his orders. No one in or out.

Despair wrapped around me, cold and thick. I slid down the door again, my forehead pressed against the wood. The hollow need was growing, gnawing at me. My skin felt hypersensitive. I could feel the texture of my clothes like sandpaper. I could hear my own heart thumping too fast.

Then, I smelled it.

Ocean. Snow. Pine.

It was faint, seeping under the door. But it was him. Lorenzo.

The moment I smelled it, the hollow need inside me screamed. It wasn’t just a scent. It was a lifeline. It was water in a desert. My body reacted before my brain could. I took a deep, shuddering breath, pulling that scent into my lungs. A low moan escaped my lips. Some of the terrible emptiness eased, just a little.

Footsteps stopped outside my door. They were heavy, measured. Then, silence.

He was there. Standing right outside.

I held my breath. The only sound was my frantic heartbeat.

A key turned in the lock. The sound was loud in the quiet night.

The door opened inward slowly.

He stood in the doorway, backlit by the dim hall light. He’d changed out of his uniform into dark pants and a simple shirt, the sleeves rolled up. He looked… different. Less like the perfect admiral, more like a man. A tired, tense man.

His storm-gray eyes found me on the floor. His expression was unreadable.

The smell of him washed over me, stronger now. The ocean, the cold pine forest. It flooded my senses. The hollow ache in my chest pulsed, a desperate, pulling sensation. Closer. Get closer.

I didn’t mean to. My body moved on its own. I reached out a trembling hand, my fingers stretching toward him.

He didn’t move. He just watched me, his jaw tight.

My fingertips brushed against the rough fabric of his pants, just above his ankle. The moment I touched him, it happened.

A jolt. Like the first one, but deeper. More intense. It wasn’t just electricity. It was a wave of pure, shocking relief. The fire in my veins cooled. The hollow need shrank. For a second, the world snapped into focus, calm and clear. The scent of ocean and snow wrapped around me, and I felt… safe. For the first time all night, I felt safe.

A sigh escaped me, one of pure, unconscious pleasure.

His whole body went rigid. I looked up, my vision blurry.

His face was a mask of conflict. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. I saw shock. I saw the same hungry, stunned look from the balcony. But I also saw a dawning horror. A deep, sickening revulsion.

He looked at my hand on his leg like it was a poisonous snake.