Chapter 104
Elara's POV
I need to get upstairs. Now.
My legs feel weak. Each step on the grand staircase takes more effort than it should. I grip the polished handrail, forcing myself to keep moving.
Alice called after me. "Elara, use the comms if you need anything."
I didn't answer. Couldn't answer. If I opened my mouth, I might say something I'd regret. Or worse, I might not be able to form words at all.
The second floor hallway stretches out in front of me. Doors line both sides. All of them closed.
The heat inside me is getting worse. It's not just my face anymore. It's everywhere. My skin feels too tight. Too sensitive. The fabric of my dress brushing against my body makes me want to tear it off.
I try the first door. Locked.
Second door. Also locked.
My hands are shaking now. The third door handle turns under my palm.
Thank god.
I push inside and slam the door shut behind me. My fingers fumble with the lock. It takes three tries before I hear the click.
The room is simple. A large bed with white sheets. A bathroom door on the left. Floor-to-ceiling windows with heavy curtains on the right.
My knees give out. I slide down against the door until I'm sitting on the floor.
This is bad. This is really bad.
The burning sensation spreads from my core outward. My breathing is too fast. Too shallow. There's an ache low in my belly that's getting harder to ignore.
I kick off my heels. They clatter across the hardwood floor. Then I struggle out of the dress jacket, tossing it aside.
It doesn't help.
Nothing helps.
I need to think. Focus. Figure out how strong this drug is and how long it will last.
But thinking is becoming difficult. My thoughts keep scattering. All I can focus on is the heat. The need. The empty, aching want that's taking over everything else.
I crawl toward the bed. Maybe if I just lie down. Wait it out.
Damn it. The dose must be stronger than I thought.
A knock on the door makes me freeze.
"Elara?" Dylan's voice. Smooth and concerned. "I know you're in there. I saw you looking unwell when you came upstairs."
I don't answer. Don't move.
"Don't worry," he continues. "I'm here to help. I know you must be feeling terrible right now."
The door handle turns. Rattles.
No. No no no.
The lock won't hold. I know it won't. These old mansion locks are designed for privacy, not security. Anyone with basic training could pick it in seconds.
I try to stand. My legs won't cooperate. I'm still on my knees when the door swings open.
Dylan steps inside. Closes the door behind him. Takes off his black half-mask.
The smile on his face makes my stomach turn.
"Well, well." He looks me over, taking in my flushed face, my disheveled state, the jacket and shoes scattered across the floor. "The witch's aphrodisiac seems to be working nicely."
I force myself to meet his eyes. "You. You drugged the drink."
"Guilty." He shrugs, completely unbothered. "Originally, I bought it for my target. Cost me a fortune to get it from a real witch. Special order."
He takes a step closer. I try to back away but my body won't respond properly.
"But when I got here," Dylan continues, "I had a better idea. Why not kill two birds with one stone? Complete my mission AND watch the great Elara Grey finally beg for something."
"Stay away from me." My voice comes out weaker than I want it to.
"Or what?" He crouches down to my level. "You going to fight me? You can barely stand."
He reaches toward my face.
The door explodes inward.
Dylan jerks back. Scrambles to his feet.
Kael stands in the doorway.
I've never seen him look like this. His face is completely expressionless, but his eyes. His eyes are burning with barely contained rage.
"Get your filthy hands away from her." His voice is so low, so controlled, it's terrifying.
Dylan's face goes pale. "I was just—"
"Now."
"Go back to the Council headquarters," Kael says quietly. "Wait there for your disciplinary hearing."
"If you're still in this building in five minutes, I will personally make sure you never work for the Council again."
Dylan doesn't argue. He practically runs for the door, squeezing past Kael without making eye contact.
Kael doesn't move until Dylan's footsteps fade down the hallway. Then he steps inside. Closes the door. Locks it.
Then he walks toward me.
I should feel relieved. Safe. Dylan is gone.
But the drug in my system doesn't care about safety. It only cares about the tall, strong Alpha walking closer. About his scent filling the room. About how his presence makes the ache inside me intensify until I can't breathe.
Kael stops beside the bed. Looks down at me.
"How strong is it?" His voice is carefully neutral.
I nod. Or try to. My head feels too heavy.
"Elara." He says my name like a command. "Look at me."
I force my eyes to focus on his face. His jaw is tight. His pupils are dilated.
"The drug," he says. "How bad?"
"Bad." The word comes out as almost a whimper. "I can't... I can't think straight."
My hand reaches out before I can stop it. Grabs his sleeve.
"Help me." I don't recognize my own voice. It's desperate. Pleading. "Kael, please. I can't control it anymore."
Something flashes in his eyes. Something dark and dangerous.
He leans down. Braces one hand on the wall beside my head. His face is inches from mine.
"You want me to help you?" His voice has gone rough. Low. "Are you sure, Elara? Do you even know what you're asking?"
I do know. Some part of me, the part that's still capable of rational thought, knows exactly what I'm asking.
But the rest of me doesn't care.
"Please." My fingers tighten on his sleeve. "I need..."
I can't finish the sentence. Don't know how to put this burning, desperate need into words.
Kael's other hand comes up. Cups my face. His thumb brushes across my overheated cheek.
"Tell me." His breath is warm against my skin. "Tell me exactly what you need."