93. Scarlett
Scarlett
I didn’t wait for the door to close behind me. I just walked—past the gauzy curtains, past the clothes I’d stripped out of hours ago, past the ache in my head I couldn’t shake.
I turned the faucet until the tub roared to life.
Steam climbed the mirror, blurred the edges of my reflection. I didn’t care.
My skin felt too tight. Too full. I dropped the dress and stepped in any way. The water scorched at first—sharp enough to make me gasp—but I welcomed the sting.
My knees curled to my chest, arms locked around them, the water swaying with every shallow inhale. The bracelet still pulsed faintly on my wrist, a quiet throb under the surface.
“So that’s it,” I muttered. “I’m bonded. Ancient, forbidden bullshit, sealed like a curse and handed no instruction manual.”
No response.
I dragged a wet hand through my hair, tilting my head back to rest on the tub’s edge. My voice came quieter. “They didn’t even tell me who I am.”
I heard him shift behind me. The soft sound of him sinking to the floor.
“You know who you are,” Trace said.
“No,” I answered. “I know what I’ve been told. Which is apparently... nothing. Except that I’m dangerous. Except that I wasn’t supposed to exist.”
A beat passed. “You always existed.”
I sank deeper into the water until it lapped at my collarbone, skin flushed and oversensitive, heartbeat dragging slow in my chest.
Trace sat across the room, arms braced loosely on his knees, unmoving. Watching without really watching.
I didn’t bother looking at him. “Why’d you follow me?”
The question sat between us, bare and rough. He didn’t rush to answer.
“Wanted to make sure you were okay.”
That old ache scratched up my throat. I swirled one hand through the bathwater, watching the ripples.
“You always say that. But I don’t think you came to make sure I was okay,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I think you came because you knew I’d start asking questions.”
Trace didn’t answer, but his silence spoke loud enough.
I turned my head toward him—not fully, just enough to catch the outline of him in the steam. Elbows still on his knees. Shoulders tight.
“That summer,” I said. “You left without a word. Not even a goodbye.”
He shifted slightly, but I didn’t stop.
“I thought it was me. Thought maybe I’d made it too hard, or too obvious, or too much.” My throat scraped. “But it was this, wasn’t it? The bond. You felt it even then.”
I sat up a little straighter, knees still drawn in, fingers tightening around the edge of the tub. “It makes more sense now. Why you couldn’t stay. Why you looked at me like you hated wanting me. Like you were already breaking the rules.” I sighed.
“I didn’t choose,” I whispered. “I didn’t know how. I wanted both of you—and that scared the hell out of me.”
His voice came low. “It scared me too.”
I finally met his eyes. “So why leave?”
Trace stood, slowly, and crossed the room until he was beside the tub. He knelt, forearms resting on the edge, face too close to bear.
“Because I was already yours,” he said. “And I knew it wasn’t just me.”
“I hated you for leaving,” I admitted.
“I hated me too,” he said. “But I was trying to protect you from something I didn’t even understand yet.”
His gaze dropped to the edge of the tub. To the water beading on my skin. “We were already too close. The bond was there, even if we didn’t name it. And the Order…” His voice trailed. “They were already watching. Waiting. You were supposed to stay hidden.”
I dragged my wet foot up the opposite leg, letting the water shift as I turned toward him. “So what now? We braid friendship bracelets and sacrifice a goat under the moonlight?”
Trace huffed. “Don’t tempt me.”
I smirked. “You’d actually look hot in a ceremonial robe. Maybe nothing underneath.”
His brow lifted just enough to tell me he was playing along. “Only if you wear the crown. Or nothing at all.”
“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already claimed the throne,” I said, tipping my head back against the tub edge. “Queen of chaos. Ruler of forbidden sex magic.”
He moved closer, arm resting on the porcelain, his face only a few inches from mine. “You’re kind of into this, aren’t you?”
I arched a brow. “Into what?”
“The bond,” he said, mouth twitching. “The ancient, forbidden, dangerous connection that makes your skin throb every time I look at you too long.”
I shrugged one bare shoulder, eyes half-lidded. “I mean… it has its perks.”
“Yeah?”
“Hot guys. No rules. Mild telepathy. And apparently, I glow during orgasms.”
That got him. He coughed out a laugh—real and wrecked—and dropped his forehead to the rim of the tub like he needed a second to recover.
“I missed this,” he muttered.
“What, my charm?”
“Your mouth.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” I purred, dragging a wet finger up his forearm. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
He reached into the water like he was about to pull me to him—then stopped, his fingers hovering just above my knee. “Tell me to leave.”
I didn’t.
Instead, I sank deeper into the water and parted my knees—just enough.
“Or stay,” I said, eyes locked on his. “But if you’re staying, you better lose the clothes.”
I watched him for a beat, then flicked water in his direction. “You’re really not getting in? What happened to forbidden sex magic and chaos worship?”
His mouth twitched. “Wasn’t sure you wanted company.”
“I’m drunk in a bathtub talking about ancient orgasms. You think I want privacy?”
He let out a low laugh, and for the first time all day, something in my chest unclenched.
His shoulders dropped on a quiet exhale—half a laugh, half a surrender. Then he rose to his feet.
My gaze tracked the hem of his shirt as he peeled it off. Then the belt, the jeans, the boxer briefs hitting the floor in a slow, deliberate heap.
I didn’t pretend to look away.
He stepped in behind me, water spilling over the rim, and sank into the bath, knees on either side of mine. His thighs bracketed me, heat closing in, heartbeat drumming steady behind my back. I let myself lean into it. Into him.
For a second, we just breathed.
“So what is this now?”
His chin brushed the top of my head. “What do you mean?”
“This.” I gestured vaguely. “Is this the part where I’m your girlfriend? Or do I get to be your girlfriend and Alden’s girlfriend? Or your bonded possession-slash-sex sorceress? Help me out here.”
A low sound rumbled in his chest. “Jesus.”
I smiled into the steam. “I’m just saying, if we’re already breaking ancient rules, might as well define the new ones.”
He shifted behind me, hand brushing my waist under the water. “You want rules, Sunshine?”
I didn’t answer right away—just let my fingers skim over the surface of the water, slow and lazy.
“So, like… are you cool with sharing?”
Trace stilled behind me.
“With Alden,” I added helpfully. “You know. Since this is apparently a whole forbidden throuple situation now.”
A beat of silence. “You’re drunk.”
I grinned. “I’m curious.”
“You’re chaos.”
“You say that like it’s not why you followed me in here.”
He moved closer, water shifting around us. Sunshine.”
I arched a brow. “Yes, darling?”
“Do you want me to lose my mind?”
“Maybe. I think it’d be hot.”
He huffed out a breath that was half laugh, half groan. “You really gonna sit here, naked in my lap, asking if I’m cool with sharing?”
I feigned innocence. “I’m trying to be mature about our situation. This is emotional growth.”
“Emotional growth doesn’t usually include asking your boyfriend if he’s down to tag-team.”
“Technically, you’re my bonded ancient sex demon, not my boyfriend.”
He dragged a hand over his face. “Christ.”
His voice dropped, low and rough by my ear. “It drives me insane, Scar. You know that, right? The idea of anyone else touching you. But then I remember what it feels like when it’s the two of us. All of us. That night in the shower—”
“That wasn’t sharing. That was claiming.”
A ripple of heat spilled through me.
I twisted just enough to glance up at him. “So you're saying... you're possessive, but horny?”
He smirked. “I’m saying you're mine. Even if he touches you, even if the bond does what it wants—you’ll still come undone for me.”
I shifted in his lap, water sloshing between us.
“Good,” I murmured. “Because I’m done pretending I don’t want you both.”
For once, I wasn’t questioning, wasn’t spiraling—I just wanted. Him. Here. Now.
I turned in his lap, straddling him, water spilling over the edge. His grip on my hips turned punishing, thumbs digging into bone like he was holding back everything.
My fingers threaded into his soaked curls, pulling just hard enough to make his jaw clench. “This what you were waiting for, Sunshine?”
His mouth crashed into mine, rough and hungry, swallowing the words I hadn’t said yet. My whole body answered, grinding down until his cock pressed exactly where I needed it—thick and ready, no hesitation between us.
“Fuck,” he muttered, teeth scraping my bottom lip before his hand slid between us, guiding himself to my entrance.
I sank onto him slow, inch by inch, my breath catching at the stretch. He was too deep already, the angle cruel and perfect. My nails dragged down his back, water sloshing around us.
He groaned—low, guttural—thrusting up hard enough to knock my rhythm off.
I gasped and tightened around him.
He didn’t let up.
His palm slid up my spine, locking at the back of my neck. “You drive me insane.”
“Maybe I like it that way.” I laughed.
“So…” I panted, voice wrecked, “do I get, like, a trophy now? For ancient bathtub seduction?”
Trace huffed a laugh against my shoulder. “You’re so drunk.”
I smiled, teeth grazing his jaw. “Drunk on bond dick. Big difference.”
He bit back another groan, shaking his head like he didn’t know whether to laugh or lose his mind.
I tipped my chin, still sprawled over him like a queen after conquest. “Do we have, like, a royal title now? Or am I just your mystical bathtub whore?”
“You’re fucking unhinged,” he muttered.
I licked his neck. “And you love it.”
He didn’t argue. Just wrapped his arms tighter around me, burying a grin in my hair as I slurred, “I better glow after this. I swear, if I don’t glow, I want a redo.”
“You’re glowing, Sunshine,” he murmured. “Trust me.”