Ronan didn’t return the next night.
He returned that morning, before the sun had fully risen, as though sleep itself had rejected him.
The forest accepted him again—too easily, he thought. The trees parted without resistance, and the light took on that unnatural glow he was starting to associate with her.
Selene waited by the edge of a stream, barefoot, kneeling over something that looked like a living flame in a bowl of water. Steam curled upward in soft spirals.
He should have greeted her with caution. Instead, he knelt beside her, unable to keep his eyes from tracing the line of her throat to the hollow at the base of her neck.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Feverroot. Soaked in moonwater. Used for healing... and binding.” She glanced at him sidelong. “Do you know why you're here?”
He hesitated. “I thought I did. Now I’m not sure.”
Selene reached for the bowl and stirred it with her fingers. The liquid shimmered. “Most come seeking power. Some, pleasure. A few… clarity.”
“And you?”
She tilted her head, amused. “I offer what’s asked for. But you… you’re a riddle I didn’t invite.”
Ronan met her gaze. “Yet here I am.”
A long silence stretched between them.
Then Selene dipped two fingers into the potion and reached toward him. “Let me show you something.”
He didn’t flinch. Her touch was cool, then suddenly hot, as she brushed the feverroot mixture across his collarbone. The burn was immediate—not pain, but sensation. Raw. Electrifying.
Images crashed through his mind: a crumbling tower. A battlefield drenched in gold light. A woman’s scream. His own name shouted like a curse.
He staggered back.
“What was that?”
Selene’s eyes narrowed. “Your past. Or perhaps your future. You carry a knot in your fate. Something’s been bound. Or hidden.”
“And you think you can unravel it?”
“I know I can.”
She stepped closer now, fingers sliding over his chest again—not with magic this time, but with intention. Her breath brushed his neck. Her body radiated heat.
"But everything has a price, Ronan," she murmured. "Especially when desire is part of the magic."
His hands found her waist before he realized it. The air between them was charged—like lightning gathering in the bones.
“Then tell me what you want from me,” he said.
Selene smiled, slow and feral.
“Everything.”