(Apollo & Adelaide)
By the time he pulled the cup away, her head spun less. The world sharpened. A faint pulse tugged at her chest—the bond—like a thread drawn taut between them. His pupils flickered, and she knew he felt it too. Felt her. A muscle jumped in his jaw. He looked away for a single heartbeat—just long enough for her to realise it cost him something to do it.
The awareness of her body answered his. Heat pooled low in her stomach, traitorous and electric. Her breath came too fast. She hated him. She hated that her body leaned into every command, every touch, every cruel kindness he fed her like poison.
Her skin prickled under the weight of his attention, painfully conscious of every inch left exposed to the heated air, which was all of it. The chamber’s warmth licked over
