Clover froze the moment Dylan stepped into the bathroom.
Her eyes widened in shock.
Instinctively, she sank deeper into the bathtub, letting the water rise higher to cover her body.
But her gaze still betrayed her.
It traveled from his face… to his broad, bare chest… lower—
Then she gasped and quickly covered her eyes with both hands.
"What are you doing?!" she demanded, mortified.
Dylan smirked.
"Taking a shower," he said lazily.
"I'm not done yet," Clover snapped.
"What is there to hide?" Dylan asked, amused. "I've already seen everything."
Clover's breath caught.
Her cheeks burned so hot she thought she might melt into the bathwater.
A while ago…
She had been standing completely exposed in front of him.
And he had really seen everything.
This devil is truly shameless.
She heard his footsteps draw closer.
Before she realized it, her hands had lowered from her face.
Dylan stopped in front of the bathtub and bent slightly, his eyes locking onto hers.
"Or…" he murmured, voice low and dangerous, "aren't you looking forward to your reward?"
Clover's heart skipped.
That wasn't a question.
Before she could even think of an answer, Dylan straightened and walked away toward the shower.
A moment later, the sound of rushing water filled the room.
Clover peeked.
And immediately regretted it.
Water streamed over his body, tracing every hard line and muscle like a cruel temptation.
She quickly sank deeper into the bathtub again.
This devil…
And what does he mean by reward?
The memory of his last "punishment" flashed through her mind.
His hands on her skin.
The heat of his breath.
The way her body had betrayed her.
Clover bit her lip.
No.
She absolutely refused to think about that.
But the more she tried not to, the more the memory lingered.
So lost in her thoughts, she didn't realize when the sound of the shower stopped.
Or when Dylan moved.
Until she looked up—
And found him standing right in front of the tub.
Her breath hitched.
"What are you doing?" she asked, panic creeping into her voice.
Dylan didn't answer.
Instead, he stepped into the bathtub.
One foot.
Then the other.
Clover immediately shifted to the opposite side, clutching her knees up to shield herself.
Dylan lowered himself into the water with infuriating calm.
The moment he settled in, Clover tried to stand and escape.
But before she could get out—
Dylan caught her.
With one swift pull, he dragged her straight into his arms.
Clover lost her balance and fell against his chest with a startled gasp.
His arms closed around her instantly.
Firm.
Warm.
Unyielding.
"Where are you going?" he whispered against her ear.
A shiver raced down her spine.
Clover went still.
"Relax," Dylan murmured.
His voice softened.
"I won't touch you."
He paused.
"Yet."
Clover's eyes widened.
Yet?
What does he mean, yet?!
Her thoughts scattered.
And then his lips brushed her neck.
A soft kiss.
Clover trembled.
Another.
Then another.
Slow.
Gentle.
Nothing like the heated, punishing kisses from before.
These were almost tender.
That somehow felt even more dangerous.
His lips trailed down the side of her neck, then lower, to the wounded skin along her shoulder and back.
The red marks.
The bruises.
The places that still stung.
He kissed them one by one.
Clover's breath shook.
A strange warmth spread through her chest, mixing with the heat already curling low in her stomach.
Why does that feel… different?
His hand slid over her waist.
Slowly.
Carefully.
As if he knew exactly how close she was to losing her mind.
Then his fingers brushed the sensitive curve of her breast.
Clover jolted.
Her breath caught sharply.
Every nerve in her body came alive at once.
She tried to move away, but in her panic, her hand slipped under the water—
And touched something hard.
Her entire body froze.
For one terrible second, her mind refused to understand.
Then it did.
Her eyes flew wide open.
Oh.
Even Dylan stilled.
That single moment was enough.
Clover twisted out of his arms, nearly splashing water everywhere, and scrambled out of the tub in a blind panic.
Then she fled.
Dylan remained in the bath for a long moment after she left.
His jaw tightened.
He leaned back and shut his eyes briefly, forcing himself to breathe.
He was already finding it difficult to control himself.
Far more difficult than he wanted to admit.
A few minutes later, he stepped beneath the shower and let cold water run over him.
By the time he finally left the bathroom, Clover was already lying on the bed.
Still.
Quiet.
Pretending to be asleep.
Dylan glanced at her once.
Long enough to know she was awake.
But he said nothing.
He dressed in black trousers and a dark blue shirt.
Then he turned and left the room.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence swallowed the chamber.
A few seconds later, Clover slowly sat up.
She stared at the closed door, clutching the blanket to herself.
Her heart still hadn't calmed.
Her skin still burned where he had touched her.
And her chest felt strangely tight.
Why did he leave?
Her fingers curled into the blanket.
Why does he always leave?
Dylan walked into his study, Elias following closely behind him.
Without a word, Dylan crossed the room and sat down.
The atmosphere turned cold at once.
"Have you located her?" Dylan asked.
"No, my Lord," Elias replied, lowering his head.
Dylan's expression hardened.
"But there is something unsettling I found out," Elias added carefully.
Dylan's eyes lifted.
"What is it?"
Elias hesitated for only a second.
"I found out that Lady Isabel ran away from the village after her brother arranged a marriage between her and the demon clan. She escaped before the union could happen."
Dylan remained silent, listening.
"She fled to Yakima Village," Elias continued. "There, she met a man… married him… and became pregnant."
Dylan's fingers tapped once against the armrest.
"Go on."
"Her identity was eventually discovered," Elias said. "She was forced to flee again while still carrying the child."
Dylan's gaze sharpened.
"So what is the unsettling part?"
Elias inhaled slowly.
"The man Lady Isabel married…"
He lowered his head further.
"Was a demon."
Silence crashed over the room.
Dylan went completely still.
For the first time that night, even he looked shaken.
"That means…" he began, but the words caught in his throat.
Elias finished it for him.
"Yes, my Lord."
His voice dropped.
"The child she carries is a mixture of demon blood and the pure White Witch bloodline."
Dylan's eyes darkened.
Elias swallowed.
"She is carrying the Good Child."