He looks at me, eyes creasing with laughter as a smile tugs at his lips. “Wow, that Damen’s one lucky bloke.” He shakes his head and rakes his fingers through his golden tousle of curls. “None of that time-wasting foreplay for you. Seems our little Ever here would rather skip right past the appetizers and get to the main course—and, luv, I can’t applaud you loudly enough for that.”

I force my face to remain blank, impassive, despite how much his words may disturb me. Painfully aware of this dark flame burning hotter inside me, now fanned by his presence.

“And while you may not desire a drink or a seat, as it just so happens I do. And since I’m the host of this little soiree, I’m afraid you’ll just have to humor me.”

He swoops toward the den in a swirl of black silk, sidling behind the bar and filling a heavy crystal goblet with a generous splash of red. Wiggling the glass before me, encouraging the opalescent liquid to spark and shine as it runs up and down the sides, reminding me of what Haven once said about it being more potent than Damen’s and wondering if it’s true. If it gives them some sort of advantage—if it would work that way for me too or end up making me as crazy and dangerous as them.

I rub my lips together and struggle to steady myself. My fingers growing fidgety, twitchy, knowing it’s not much longer before I lose it completely.

“So sorry about your little problem with Haven.” Roman nods, raising his glass and taking a long, steady sip. “But people change, you know? Not all friendships are built to last.”

“I haven’t given up.” I shrug, the words ringing with far more assurance than I feel. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work it out,” I add, that strange foreign pulse throbbing within me when he tilts his head to the side and allows his Ouroboros tattoo to flash in and out of view.

“You sure about that, luv?” He looks at me, fingers idly circling the stem of his glass as his gaze moves over me in that slow, leisurely, intimate way that he has. Choosing to linger on the deep V of my dress when he says, “I mean, no offense darlin’, but I beg to differ. It’s been my experience that when two determined birds want the same thing—well, someone’s bound to get hurt—or worse—as you well know.”

I move toward him—not the monster but me (though the monster certainly doesn’t object), gaze fixed on his when I say, “But Haven and I don’t want the same thing. She wants you and I want something entirely different.”

He peers at me from over the rim of his glass, the goblet obscuring everything but his steely blue gaze. “Oh, yeah, and what’s that, luv?”

“You already know.” I shrug, moving my hand from my hip and clasping it behind my back so he can’t see the way it trembles and shakes. “Isn’t that why you summoned me here?”

He nods, setting his drink on the gold-beaded coaster. “Still, I’d love to hear you say it. Love to hear the words spoken out loud—from your lips to my ears.”

I take a deep breath, take in his heavy-lidded gaze, wide inviting lips, and broad expanse of chest, my gaze lured down to his abs, and lower still, when I say, “The antidote.” Pushing the words past my lips, wondering if he has any idea of the battle waging inside me. “I want the antidote,” I repeat, firmer this time. Adding, “As you well know.”

And before I can stop it, he’s standing beside me. Face composed, hands relaxed, hanging loose at his sides. The chill of his skin emanating over me in a wave of cool, sweet relief when he says, “I want you to know that I brought you here with the purest intentions. After seeing the way you’ve suffered over these past few months, I’m fully prepared to call it off and give you what you want. And even though it’s been a good bit of fun, or at least it has for me anyway.” He shrugs. “Much like you, Ever, I’m ready to move on. Back to London, that is. This town’s too laid back for my tastes, I require a bit more action than this.”

“You’re leaving?” I blurt, the words coming so quickly I’m not sure who’s responsible for voicing them.

“Does that upset you?” He smiles, gaze searching my face.

“Hardly.” I scowl, rolling my eyes and averting my gaze, hoping to distract him from the tremor in my voice.

“I’ll try not to take that personally.” He smiles, Ouroboros tattoo flashing in and out of view, its beady eyes seeking mine as its tongue slithers about. “But before I go, I thought I’d tie up a few loose ends, and seeing as it’s your birthday and all, I thought I’d start with you. Give you the gift you want most. The one thing you want more than anything else in the world, that no other person, living or dead, could ever give you—” He trails his finger down my arm, lightly, quickly, the memory of it lingering long after he’s turned away and moved on.

I stare at his retreating back, knowing I can’t afford this, can’t afford to slip up. Reminding myself of the magical feel of Damen’s lips just a few hours before, and how very close I am to reclaiming that—but only if I can keep myself in check.

Roman turns, finger beckoning for me to follow and tsking at my resistance when he says, “Trust me, luv, I’ve no plans to trick you or drag you off to my chambers.” He shakes his head and laughs. “There’ll be plenty of time for that later, if that’s what you choose. But for now, I’ve got something a little more technical planned. And speaking of, have you ever taken a lie detector test?”