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“You can survive it on your own,” he says. “You can control it.”

What the fuck does he know! I look at him, pleading silently for him to let go. His fingers tighten around my wrist instead. It hurts. Pain snaps me back a little.

I feel it. Real pain. My pain. Nero’s hand. My wrist. This hallway. This club.

Not Julian.

Me.

Nero sees the change in my eyes and moves fast. He wraps his arm around my waist and practically carries me into a room off the corridor. An empty office where dark glass overlooks the bar, a one-way mirror reflecting shadows and light.

He sits me on the desk and takes my face in both hands.

“Lara. Look at me.”

I shake my head.

“Look at me.” His voice is firm.

I do. His eyes are so blue.

“I know it’s a lot,” he says. “I know you feel like you’re drowning, but you’re here with me. Not in those memories. Not in their deaths. Their deaths are not yours.”

“You don’t understand,” I whisper, trying to push him away, trying to slide off the desk.

“You’re right. I don’t.”

He parts my legs and steps between them, blocking my escape without crushing me.

“I know you don’t want to be a slave,” he says. “And you are. To this.”

He takes the stardust from my hand and sets it on the desk, out of reach.

My breathing gets worse. My heart pounds so hard I’m afraid I’m having a heart attack. Nero sees my panic rising and catches my hair, his fist closing at the base of my skull. He pulls my head back with force. The sharpness brings my eyes back into focus.

“If you numb yourself to everything,” he says, voice low, “you don’t only lose the suffering. You lose your life too. I know because I did the same thing. And what if I want you to feel this?” he asks.

Then he kisses me.

Deep. Hard. So completely that no air remains in my lungs. I feel his fangs under my tongue, the heat of his mouth, the brutal demand of him dragging me back into my own body.

Do I want him? I don’t know. Do I want him to stop? No.

He pulls away just enough for breath, but his lips stay against mine. Then he slides his tongue into my mouth, touching my teeth, my tongue, kissing me again like he’s searching for proof I’m still alive. I catch his lower lip between my teeth and suck it into my mouth. A sound tears from his chest.

“I can’t take it away from you,” he rasps against my lips. “But I can give you something else.”

His hand slides higher on my thigh.

I don’t stop him.

His fingers slip under my skirt and between my legs. I’m wet, impossibly wet, even after all that stardust. Usually, the powder kills everything. Desire, hunger, heat. But right now, my body ignores the poison and lives for him.

Nero still holds my hair, forcing me to keep my head up, not letting me look away from him. With his other hand, he opens his pants.

Fear sparks in me. How far has this gone.

“Nero,” I whisper. “No.”