The cold hit her in layers now. First the shock of it—the spray against her back, against her breasts, against the heat that still smoldered somewhere deep and wrong—then the deeper cold, the kind that settled into her bones and made her teeth chatter. She was shivering so hard she couldn't tell if she was being held up or holding onto him. Her fingers curled against his chest. His skin was warm, still warm even beneath the freezing water.
She blinked several times, her eyes struggling to focus before slipping out of focus again. Slowly, the room began to come back to her—the shower, the cold water, the arms holding her upright. Then another realization followed, sharper than the cold itself. She was naked, pressed against Liam Thorn's body, her breasts against his chest, her thighs brushing against something that was definitely not skin but was close enough to make her stomach drop.
Fabric. Thin fabric. His boxer briefs were soaked through, clinging to him, and she could feel the shape of him through them. The heat of him made her face go from cold to burning in the span of a single heartbeat.
Her hand—her own hand—was gripping his wrist, her nails digging into his skin. She let go as though she'd been burned, pulling her hand back against herself.
“I—” Her voice cracked and broke. She swallowed, forcing herself to try again. “What—what happened?”
“Elena.”
His voice was low and controlled, the same voice that had told her to stand still in his study, the same voice that had told her she'd been beautiful tonight.
She looked up at him. The water was darkening his black hair, plastering it to his forehead. His blue eyes were sharp, assessing, and something else beneath that — something harder, colder, that she didn't recognize.
“You were drugged,” he said. “Both of you. Eros. It's a compound that induces a hypersexual response.”
Her brain struggled to process the words. Drugged. Hypersexual response. The meaning slowly began to settle in, but before she could make sense of it, the memories hit her.
They weren't clean memories, or even clear ones. They came in fragments—heat, wetness, a mouth between her legs, fingers inside her, a voice that hadn't felt like her own begging for more. Lisa's mouth. Lisa's fingers. Lisa's tongue.
Her stomach lurched.
She grabbed his shoulders as her legs gave out beneath her. She would have fallen if he hadn't been holding her, his arm tightening around her waist to keep her upright beneath the spray. His grip tightened instinctively, and she felt a slight hitch in his breath, as though the sudden shift in her weight had pulled at an injury.
“Hey.” His voice was closer now, sharper. “Elena. Stay with me.”
“I—she—Lisa—”
“Was also drugged.” His jaw was set hard.
Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. The cold made it difficult to think, while the shame made it difficult to breathe. She could still feel the ghost of pleasure, the echoes of what had happened while Lisa was with her, and the realization made her stomach twist.
“S-s-s-someone w-w-want to t-tell me wha-what’s going on?” Lisa yelled from the bathtub, her voice chattering between clattering teeth.
Elena turned her head. Through the hazed glass of the shower door, she could make out the outline of the tub, and Lisa’s silhouette huddled in the water, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her whole body trembling.
“Li—Liam?” Lisa’s voice cracked as she tried again. “W-w-what the f-f-fuck is going on?”
Liam exhaled, a long, slow breath that seemed to carry something out of him—tension, perhaps, or the last of his adrenaline. He looked down at Elena, then through the glass at Lisa, and when he spoke again, his voice was colder, controlled and commanding.
“You can both get out of the water now,” he said. “Grab a towel and dry off. Quickly.”
The authority in his voice cut through the fog in Elena’s head. She felt his arm loosen around her waist, slowly and carefully, making sure she could stand on her own before he let go completely. Then his hands were gone, leaving her alone beneath the spray, shivering as she wrapped her arms around herself.
She stepped back. Her legs were unsteady, but they held. Her hand found the shower door handle, and she pulled it open.
The cold air hit her wet skin like a slap. Steam rose off her body in thin wisps as she stepped out onto the bathmat, her bare feet slipping slightly on the wet tile.
She reached for the nearest towel — a fluffy white one hanging on a rack near the sink — and pulled it off, wrapping it around herself with shaking hands. The fabric was rough and soft at the same time, and she clutched it like armor, holding it closed at her chest.
Behind her, the glass shower door swung shut.
She heard the click of it closing, and she turned her head just enough to see through the fogged glass. His silhouette was there, darker against the white tile, the water streaming down his body. She could see the broad line of his shoulders, the narrow taper of his waist, the shape of him through the condensation and the spray.
Her breath caught.
She looked away. Fast. Her face was burning again, and she didn't know why — didn't know why she felt embarrassed to have seen him like that, half-naked and wet and real, when he had already seen every inch of her.
What is going on?
The question echoed in her skull, hollow and desperate. She had been in bed. She had been touching herself—no, Lisa had been—no, they had been together—
Her stomach turned again. She turned away from the shower, from the fogged glass and the silhouette she couldn't stop seeing even with her eyes closed, and found Lisa climbing out of the tub, naked.
Elena’s eyes went wide, and she looked away again, but not before she noticed the way Lisa moved, the water running down her thighs and her skin flushed and reddened from the cold. Her nipples were tight, her dark hair plastered to her face and neck, and Elena quickly forced her gaze elsewhere.
Lisa grabbed a towel from a hook near the tub and wrapped it around herself with shaking hands. Her teeth chattered audibly in the quiet room.
Behind her, the shower door opened again. Her body went still.
Realizing Liam was stepping out of the shower, Elena turned away. She couldn't look at him. Just thinking about his bare chest against hers beneath the spray stirred a heat she couldn't quite escape, and she kept her eyes fixed on Lisa instead. Her best friend's dark eyes stared back at her, filled with confusion and shame, along with something else Elena couldn't quite identify. It looked almost like awe.
Lisa's gaze shifted past Elena and landed on something behind her. Elena heard the wet sound of fabric being pulled off, the snap of elastic, followed by the soft thud of something wet hitting the tile floor.
Lisa's breath stopped. Her eyes widened as Elena watched her lips part and her throat move when she swallowed, her attention fixed on whatever was happening behind Elena.
Then Lisa seemed to realize what she was doing. Her gaze snapped up to Elena's face, her expression shifting from awe to panic as she mouthed a single word: No. Don't. Don't say anything.
Elena didn't need to turn around to know what Lisa was seeing. She could still remember it clearly—his shirt gone, water tracing down his bare torso, his boxer briefs clinging damply to him as though the cold hadn't touched him at all. There had been that same unshakable authority in the way he stood, exposed and completely unbothered by it.
She didn't turn around. She stayed frozen, facing Lisa with her back to the shower, her heart pounding so hard she could hear it in her ears. Behind her, she heard the soft pad of wet feet against the tile, followed by the rustle of fabric and the quiet opening and closing of a drawer.
She knew he was behind her, getting dressed while still naked beneath the towel. The thought sent a jolt through her, and she clenched her own towel tighter around herself, her knuckles turning white against the fabric.
“Dry off thoroughly,” Liam’s voice came from behind her, still low and controlled. “The cold helps break the compound’s hold, but you need to get warm slowly. No hot water. Both of you should get under the covers and warm up gradually.”
Elena heard him moving behind her, the rustle of fabric as he dried himself, quick and efficient. She kept her eyes fixed on Lisa, who was still staring at something over Elena’s shoulder, her expression caught between mortification and fascination.
“Girls.” Liam’s voice sharpened. “Are you understanding me?”
Lisa blinked and swallowed. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m—I’m understanding you.”
Elena nodded, unable to speak or face him.
“Good. Both of you get into bed. We need to talk about what happened tonight.”
A long, weighted silence followed. Neither of them moved until Liam stepped past Elena. She caught a glimpse of his bare, toned body beneath the towel wrapped securely around his waist as he walked into the bedroom, his presence alone enough to make the room feel smaller.
“Now,” he said without looking back.
Lisa moved first, and Elena followed, the chill driving them toward the warmth of the bed. They climbed beneath the covers, pulling them close around themselves as Liam moved between the bed and the main door.
Silence filled the room, broken only by the occasional shiver from the two women.
“Why were you even in here?” Elena asked, breaking the silence.
“Screaming is not something I normally hear in my manor.” He answers.
“How did it happen?!” She demanded, slowly returning to normal feeling as Lisa’s naked body continued to press against hers.
“That, I don’t know. Eros is normally inhaled. Usually through vapor or a humidifier. Drinking it works too, but it's harder to hide because it tastes awful." He finishes explaining. Then starts to walk towards the door.
“Hey! You better not be leaving! I have more questions! How do you know all this?”
She yells, watching as he approaches the door.
“I’m not leaving. It would be irresponsible to leave you two in this state.” A trace of annoyance touched his otherwise monotone voice.
He walked to the door and stepped halfway into the hall, reaching just beyond the doorway. Through the gap, Elena watched him pull the bell cord and give it a firm ring. The soft, melodic chime was strangely piercing in the quiet, echoing through the manor before fading away.
Liam stepped back inside and turned to face them both.
“My question remains unanswered, Liam,” Elena said, her voice edged with frustration.
“It’s because I made it.” He paused briefly. “More accurately, I had my medical team develop it.”
“To make it safer to use.”
Elena stared at him. “That’s your reason?”
“No.” His answer came without hesitation. “That’s the result.”
Her brow furrowed as she studied him, trying to understand what he wasn't saying.
“People were going to use something like it whether I made it or not,” Liam continued. “I decided I’d rather know exactly what they were taking and what it would do to them.”
Elena felt a knot tighten in her chest. “And you think that makes it better?”
“I think knowing what you’re dealing with is safer than not knowing.”
His voice remained calm, almost matter-of-fact, as though there were nothing unusual about creating a compound like Eros. Somehow, that bothered her more than if he'd tried to defend himself.
Lisa shifted beneath the covers, breaking the silence. “I mean, El…”
Elena looked at her.
“Aside from the whole getting-spiked part, it was kind of fun.” Lisa gave a small, nonchalant shrug. “I definitely never planned on doing that with you, but…” She trailed off, her expression changing as the reality of what had happened began to settle in. “Yeah. That was weird.”
Elena stared at her in disbelief.
The memories came rushing back with brutal clarity. Lisa’s hands. Lisa’s mouth. Every touch Elena had tried not to remember.
“No. No. No. No.” Elena’s face burned crimson. Her stomach twisted as the reality of it settled over her.
Her chest hitched, the word repeating in her mind like a broken loop. Her fingers dug into the blanket, knuckles whitening against the fabric, and she squeezed her eyes shut as though she could erase the images behind them.
But she couldn't erase them. Her own responses were what frightened her most. Her body had arched into it. Had begged.
That realization hit harder than anything else, leaving a cold, hollow shame twisting in her chest.
“Elena.”
Lisa’s voice was soft, closer than Elena expected. She opened her eyes and found Lisa beside her, the towel still wrapped around her body, her dark hair drying in messy waves around her shoulders. Her face was pale beneath the lingering flush, her eyes red-rimmed and uncertain.
“Elena, I’m—” Lisa’s voice cracked. She swallowed and tried again. “I’m so sorry. I don’t—I didn’t mean to—”
Elena stared at her, at the face she’d known since elementary school. Lisa was the friend who had eaten ramen with her at two in the morning, called her out on her bullshit, and followed her into this mansion without a second thought.
“It’s not your fault,” Elena said, her voice hoarse and raw. “We were drugged.”
“I know, but I still—” Lisa’s breath shook. “I still did it. I still—”
“Lisa.” Elena reached out before she could think better of it. Her hand found Lisa’s wrist beneath the covers, her fingers wrapping gently around her warm skin. “Stop.”
Lisa’s eyes met hers, wet with guilt and uncertainty as she searched Elena’s face.
Elena’s throat tightened. She looked at Lisa and saw the guilt still written across her face. She couldn’t let her carry all of it.
“It’s not your fault,” Elena said quietly. “I wanted it too.”
Lisa shook her head. “No. We were drugged. That’s why it happened.”
“I know the drug affected me.” Elena swallowed, her face warming as the memories returned. “I know it made me feel things I wouldn’t normally feel. But I felt them.”
Lisa looked at her, uncertain.
“My body wanted it,” Elena admitted, lowering her gaze. “I wanted more. I responded to you. I can’t just pretend none of that happened because we were drugged.”
“But you didn’t choose it,” Lisa said softly.
Elena was quiet for a moment. “Maybe I didn’t. I honestly don’t know anymore.” She tightened her fingers around Lisa’s wrist beneath the covers. “I just know I don’t blame you.”
Lisa’s eyes filled again, but this time she didn’t look away.
“Okay.” Liam’s voice cut through the room. He was still standing near the door, one hand braced against the frame, his towel wrapped around his waist, his expression unreadable. “I think we’ve said enough about that for now.”
Elena flinched. She had forgotten he was there. For one suspended moment, she’d forgotten anyone else existed in the room.
She pulled her hand back from Lisa’s. The absence of the contact felt strangely like a loss.
“Mr. Thorn—” <Discussion Part>
“Liam, please.” His jaw tightened. “At this point, I think we’re past formalities.”
He shifted and crossed to the armchair near the window, lowering himself into it with a slight stiffness. As he settled into the seat, his jaw tightened again, just for a moment. The bandage wrapped around his upper chest had spotted with fresh blood, a small crimson stain spreading across the white fabric before he adjusted the towel and covered it.
“I don’t—” He stopped and rubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t have a guidebook for this. I wasn’t trained on what to say when two women I’m responsible for get drugged in my own home.”
The admission caught Elena off guard. Liam Thorn always seemed to have an answer, a plan, or a command ready. Seeing him hesitate was almost strange.
“You’re not good at this,” she said.
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “No. I’m not.”
“That’s okay.” The words surprised her as soon as they left her mouth. Lisa shifted beside her beneath the covers, and Elena felt the warmth of her body against her own. She kept her eyes on Liam. “I don’t think anyone’s good at this.”
For a moment, Liam simply looked at her. Then Elena felt it—a warmth beginning to build low in her belly, slow at first, then spreading through her in a way that had nothing to do with the cold she had just escaped. Lisa’s thigh was touching hers beneath the covers, warm against her skin, and the memories of what had happened came rushing back with it.
She held her breath and tried to ignore the sensation. Stop. This isn’t real. It’s the aftereffects. I’m just remembering. But the heat continued to build. Elena pressed her legs together, hoping the pressure would make it disappear, but instead it only seemed to draw her attention to the pulse between her thighs. Her body was responding again, despite everything she knew.
Beside her, Lisa shifted, turning slightly toward her beneath the covers. The movement brought them closer, and Elena could feel the warmth of her body against hers and her breath against her skin. She didn't look at her.
“Elena.”
Liam’s voice had changed. Sharper now.
She looked up and found him watching her.
“What?”
He didn't answer immediately. His gaze moved over her face, then down toward the covers before returning to her eyes. His nostrils flared slightly, and his jaw tightened.
“You’re warm again.”
Elena swallowed. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
He stood, the sudden movement making both women tense. His towel remained securely around his waist as he crossed toward the bed.
“Then what do you suggest?” Lisa asked, her voice defensive. “Because I think I’m feeling it too, and I don’t think another cold shower is going to help.”
Elena stared at her. Lisa was feeling it too. The realization sent a fresh wave of panic through her. Lisa was warm beside her, pressed close beneath the covers, and whatever was happening to Elena was happening to her as well.
Liam stopped at the edge of the bed. His eyes moved between them, assessing their faces and their reactions. Then his expression changed. His attention had shifted away from them and toward the bed.
He leaned forward slightly and drew in a slow breath.
“Move.”
The command was sharp enough to cut through Elena’s thoughts.
“What—”
“Both of you. Get off the bed.”
Elena didn't question him. She scrambled toward the edge of the mattress, her bare feet hitting the cold floor as she stood. Lisa followed, catching her towel when it slipped and clutching it against her chest.
Liam reached past them and grabbed the sheet. He pulled it free, gathering the bedding into a pile at the foot of the mattress. When he lifted the heavier duvet, he paused and inhaled.
His expression remained unreadable, but his grip tightened around the fabric. He dropped the sheet, grabbed the duvet again, and brought it closer to his face. His eyes closed for a fraction of a second before opening again, cold and focused.
“Shit.”
Elena stared at him. “What?”
“It’s in the bedding.”
He threw the duvet aside and stripped the pillowcase from one of the pillows, holding it up between his fingers.
“Eros,” he said. “It’s in the bedding. Scented fabric. Slow-release. Someone treated the sheets.”
Elena’s stomach dropped as she looked at the bed. These were the sheets she had slept in every night, the pillows she had pressed her face against. Someone had put it there. Someone had wanted this to happen.
The realization made her wrap her arms around herself. Suddenly, the towel felt like it wasn't enough to cover her.
“Who?” Lisa asked. “Who would do that?”
Liam didn't answer. He was already gathering the bedding into a pile, his movements quick and deliberate.
A knock sounded at the door, causing all three of them to freeze.
"Mr. Thorn?" Presley's voice came through the wood, calm and measured. "You rang."
Liam crossed to the door in three strides and pulled it open. Presley stood in the hallway, fully dressed despite the hour, his posture impeccable. His eyes looked over the girls, the room, and Liam in a towel. Surprise crossed his face, too quick to read, before his expression settled back into place.
“The bedding in this room is compromised,” Liam said, his voice even and controlled. “It contains Eros—a scented, slow-release compound. I need it removed from the manor and taken to Dr. Elias. Quietly.”
Presley’s expression didn't shift. His eyes moved past Liam to the pile of fabric on the bed, then back to him. “Understood, sir. I’ll have the bedding removed, the room secured, and fresh linens brought up immediately.”
“Yes.” Liam’s jaw tightened.
“Of course.”
Liam gathered the sheets, duvet, and pillowcases into his arms and handed the bundle to Presley. The pile was large enough to obscure most of the older man’s face, but he took it without comment.
“I’ll have fresh bedding brought up immediately, sir.”
“Thank you, Presley.”
Presley nodded and turned, carrying the contaminated bedding down the hallway.
Liam closed the door behind him.
The silence that followed felt heavy. Elena stood beside the bed, still clutching her towel, caught between the last traces of the drug’s effects and the cold realization of what had been done to her.
Someone had done this on purpose. Someone had wanted her drugged. They had entered her room, treated the bedding with Eros, and left it there for her to sleep in. The thought of someone watching her closely enough to know where she slept made her skin crawl.
She didn't know whether to be afraid or furious. Maybe both. The emotions churned together until her hands began to shake.
“Get dressed.” Liam’s voice was quieter now, but still carried the same authority. “Both of you. There are robes in the closet.”
He crossed to the closet, pulled out two plush robes, and tossed them onto the foot of the bed. Then he turned toward the door.
“I need to question the staff,” he said. His voice was low and final. “Presley will be back with fresh linens. Stay in this room, and don't open the door for anyone else.”
He moved with purpose, though Elena noticed the faint stiffness in his stride now that the adrenaline was beginning to fade.
Elena nodded, still clutching her towel. Lisa stood frozen beside her, dark hair dripping onto the floor. Liam looked over them one last time, making sure they were both steady, then turned and left. The door clicked shut behind him.
Elena let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her legs still felt weak as she reached for the robe on the bed. The thick fabric was warm against her skin as she slipped it on and pulled the belt tight around her waist. Beside her, Lisa did the same, moving more slowly as she wrapped the robe around herself.
Neither of them spoke. The room was quiet again, but Elena could still feel the lingering effects of what had happened—the warmth in her skin, the uncomfortable flashes of memory, and the shame that came with remembering something neither of them had chosen.
A soft knock sounded at the door before it opened, and Presley stepped inside carrying a stack of fresh white linens. He moved with practiced efficiency, stripping the bare mattress and remaking the bed without comment. He tucked the corners, straightened the sheets, and fluffed the pillows as though this were any other night.
“Everything is prepared, Miss Rossi. Miss Chen.”
He straightened and gave them a slight bow before leaving. The door closed softly behind him.
Elena looked at Lisa. Lisa looked back at her. Neither of them said anything. After everything that had happened, getting back into the bed felt strange, but there wasn't anywhere else for them to go.
Elena climbed in on the left, and Lisa settled on the right. The mattress dipped beneath their weight as they pulled the covers up around themselves. The sheets were cool and crisp against Elena's skin, carrying only the faint scent of clean linen. She drew them up to her chin and stared at the ceiling while Lisa lay beside her, close enough that Elena could feel her warmth but careful not to touch.
Within minutes, Lisa’s breathing evened out, slow and deep, her body relaxing against the mattress. Exhaustion had claimed her quickly, mercifully. Elena, however, remained awake, lying rigid beneath the covers with her eyes open as the storm continued to rage outside. Wind howled around the manor, and rain lashed against the window.
Her mind wouldn't stop. Fragments of the night kept surfacing—the heat, the cold, Lisa, Liam, and the realization that the bedding had been drugged. Someone had done this deliberately. Someone had wanted it to happen. The questions kept circling through her mind. Who had done it? And why?
Unable to lie still any longer, Elena slipped out from under the covers. Her bare feet were silent against the hardwood as she crossed to the window. Condensation fogged the glass, turning the storm beyond it into a dark blur.
She raised her hand and pressed her index finger against the cool surface. Slowly, almost without thinking, she traced a shape into the condensation—a five-pointed thorn, like the one she'd seen on Liam's tie pin.
The thorn glistened in the dim light, drawn in the steam of her own breath. She stared at it, her hand still pressed against the glass, and the question she couldn't answer pulsed through her like a second heartbeat: what kind of man owned a drug like Eros—and who in his house had used it on her?