VILLA OF THORNS

THE FIRST EFFECTS

Moments after popping the chocolate square into her mouth, Katie felt a soft warmth spread through her chest. She lingered at the table, waiting for the sugar crash that never came. Instead, a gentle euphoria bloomed, as though someone had dimmed the edges of the world and wrapped her in velvet.

She turned, spotting Milly mid‑spin with two of Yannis's friends. Her laughter bubbled up—clear, bright, more frequent than usual. She stumbled slightly on the uneven patio stones and giggled, gripping the edge of a lounge chair.

Across the terrace, Yiannis was deep in conversation with Adrian. He caught the stagger in Katie's step out of the corner of his eye and frowned. He excused himself, weaving through the crowd until he reached her.

"Katie, are you okay?" His voice was low over the music, concern in his tone.

She blinked up at him, a soft smile on her lips. "Better than okay," she cooed, swaying gently. "This party is incredible, Yiannis ."

He noted her flushed cheeks and the slow drift of her eyelids. "Did you eat one of these?" He held up the brownie plate. Katie nodded, eyes dreamy. "Which one?"

She pointed to the corner brownie—the one garnished with edible rose petals. "That one was calling my name and the square brownies."

He took a step back, mind racing. That particular batch had been laced with an extra‑strong aphrodisiac concocted by Yiannis' prankster cousin—intended as a cheeky enhancement for the bachelor's party.

Katie chuckled and reached out to touch his arm, fingers cool against his sleeve. "You look awfully serious for a groom".

His jaw tightened. "Just maksure you're safe."

She swayed again, hair brushing her shoulders. "Safe's boring. I want fun." She lifted her arms overhead and danced in place, body loose, every movement fluid and unselfconscious.

Yannis glanced around. The groomsmen were mid‑air in a limbo round; Milly was laughing atop a chair; Aria and Andrea were teaching the DJ new choreography. No one noticed as he reached out, gently guiding her toward a secluded seating nook under a pergola entwined with jasmine. The air there was cooler, quieter, scented with night‑blooming flowers.

"Katie, sit down," he urged softly, settling her onto a cushioned bench. She let him, eyes half‑closed, flashing him a grin that felt like a promise.

"Why?" she breathed, tilting her head. "Is someone worried about me?"

His hands paused on her shoulders. "A little." He searched her face. "How are you feeling?"

She giggled again, stamping one foot. "Delicious," she declared, voice playful. "Everything's delicious."

Yannis sank beside her, lowering his voice. "That brownie was... stronger than you're used to."

Katie's gaze flicked to her lips. "Ooh." She clapped once, excitement bubbling in her chest. "Do you feel it too? It's like... like velvet running through my veins."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it, still swaying as if to her own private soundtrack. Her laughter came in soft, frequent ripples. He helped her to her feet.

"Come on," he said, supporting her arm around his waist. "Let's get you some water—and maybe something to eat that isn't laced."

She rested her head on his shoulder as they rose, brushing past a surprised Aria. "Sorry," Katie murmured, voice thick with delight. "But this is amazing."

Yiannis wrapped his arm around her protectively. "Amazing can wait until morning," he murmured back, guiding her toward the indoor kitchen.

Inside the villa's cooler air, he sat her at the granite countertop and handed her a tall glass of ice water. She drank deeply, then closed her eyes, savoring the cold. He fetched a plate of fresh melon and prosciutto, placing it in front of her.

She nibbled slowly, the fruits grounding her swaying senses. He stayed by her side, monitoring each bite, his own heart beating with protectiveness.

"Yannis," she said after a moment, voice husky. "Thank you."

He covered her hand with his. "Anytime."

Outside, the party's bass resonance thrummed through the walls. Katie raised her water glass in a mock toast, eyes alight. Yannis matched her gesture, watching this woman—his fiancée's confidante—find joy even in mischief.

The party was alive with color and sound—laughing voices, music thumping low from the terrace speakers, the scent of grilled seafood mingling with salt and summer jasmine. But in the kitchen, everything felt quieter.

Yannis leaned against the counter, watching Katie.

She looked angelic. Innocent. Like trouble wrapped in soft laughter and a linen sundress.

"I think I'm good now," she said. "That was divine."

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're okay?"

Katie tilted her head, eyes slightly glassy. "I feel amazing."

And then she paused.

Her smile faltered. Her brow furrowed.

"I'm... hot," she murmured, pressing a hand to her chest. "Like... weirdly hot."

Yannis straightened. "Hot how?"

She shook her head slowly, dazed. "Like my skin is burning. But not painful. It's... intense."

Her other hand drifted to the strap of her dress.

Yannis's jaw locked. "Katie."

"I just need to get this off—" she started, tugging at it, the fabric slipping slightly down her shoulder.

"Nope," he said, stepping in fast and steady, gently catching her hands. "Not here. Not now."

She blinked up at him, lips parted, cheeks flushed with something that looked suspiciously like desire.

And that's when it hit him.

The look in her eyes. The color in her skin. The slight tremble in her fingers. The aphrodisiac was kicking in hard.

"Shit."

He pulled out his phone instantly. "I'm calling Milly," he said, walking a few feet away. Katie leaned against the fridge, one leg bent, the hem of her sundress sliding higher with each passing second.

"Milly, pick up," Yannis muttered, eyes darting between Katie and the phone. But Milly didn't answer. The background of the call buzzed with music and shouting, a voice—maybe Louisa's—singing off-key. Laughter, glasses clinking.

She was having the time of her life.

Katie whimpered.

Yannis turned and froze.

She had slipped off one strap completely, and the fabric now clung loosely to her curves, dangerously close to slipping lower.

"I need to cool down," she breathed. "Please, Yannis, I can't think."

He crossed the kitchen in seconds. "Come on," he said, wrapping the cloth from the breakfast nook around her shoulders. "You're going to lie down. Just breathe. Don't talk. Just... breathe."

His bedroom was dark and cool. Quiet. A world apart from the chaos downstairs.

Yiannis closed the door behind them and guided her gently to sit on the edge of the bed.

Katie let the cloth slip off her shoulders as she sat, her chest rising and falling fast, hands gripping the sheets.

She looked up at him.

And that was the moment his control began to splinter.

Because her eyes weren't dazed anymore. They were hungry.

"Yannis," she whispered. "Everything in me is aching."

He clenched his jaw so tight it hurt. "I know what's happening, Katie. It's the aphrodisiac in the brownie. Your body's reacting, but it's not real."

"It feels real," she said, voice shaking. "It feels like... like I'll combust if I don't—"

She stopped herself. But the damage was done.

Yannis backed away, hands fisted at his sides. "You need to lie down. Sleep. I'll stay nearby. You're safe, okay?"

But she stood, rising slowly from the bed like a vision from a dream. The dress hung off one shoulder, her skin glowing, her pupils wide.

"I don't feel safe," she whispered. "I feel... everything. I've never wanted to be touched so badly in my life."

Yannis turned away.

But she stepped forward, the sound of bare feet on hardwood like thunder to his ears.

She was behind him now. Her fingers brushed the back of his shirt. Her breath danced at the base of his neck.

"Do you want me?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "Because I want you."

And then silence.

He didn't move.

Couldn't.

The words hit him like a sucker punch to the gut.

His knuckles went white. His heart slammed against his ribs.

Everything in him wanted to turn around. To claim her mouth, press her against the wall, and surrender to everything they'd been pretending wasn't there.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let out a shaky breath and forced the words through clenched teeth.

"You don't mean that," he said. "Not right now. Not like this."

Her hands dropped away.

"I'm not going to touch you when you're like this, Katie. Even if I want to."

He turned to face her—just once—because he needed to look into her eyes and see if she understood.

She did.

Even in the haze. Even in the fire.

She nodded. And sat back on the bed, curling up, pulling the blanket around her.

He moved to the other side of the room, sitting in the armchair, hands shaking slightly as he ran them through his hair.

The silence between them was charged. Heavy.

A war neither of them had signed up for, and neither of them had won.