Chapter 40
Chapter 40:
“Ginseng and cordyceps,” Beatrice explained, watching them sit. “An old family recipe. For vitality. And fertility p>
Skye froze. She knew that smell. In her past life, Beatrice had forced this on her once before. It wasn’t just herbs. It was laced with a potent, traditional aphrodisiac that the older generations swore by.
She looked at the bowl. The liquid was dark, opaque.
“Drink,” Beatrice ordered. “Every drop p>
Liam, oblivious and hungry, picked up his spoon. “Thank you, Grandmother p>
He started eating. He ate quickly, finishing half the bowl in minutes.
Skye lifted her spoon. She brought it to her lips. The smell made her gag reflex trigger. She pretended to sip, then, while Beatrice turned to scold a servant for a speck of dust, Skye spat the liquid into her thick linen napkin. She repeated the motion. Sip. Spit. Sip. Spit.
“Finished,” Skye said, placing her spoon in the empty bowl.
“Good,” Beatrice smiled. It was a terrifying expression. “Now, go to bed. The guest rooms are being fumigated tonight. You will share the master suite p>
“Grandmother, that’s not necess—” Liam started, but he stopped. He blinked, swaying slightly in his chair. His face was flushed. “Is it… is it hot in here p>
“Go,” Beatrice said.
The servants practically herded them up the stairs. The heavy double doors of the master bedroom were shut behind them.
Skye heard the distinct click of a lock from the outside.
Beatrice wasn’t taking chances.
The room was stifling. The fireplace was lit, roaring with unnecessary heat.
Liam loosened his tie, throwing it on the floor. He unbuttoned his collar, gasping for air. His skin was turning a patchy red.
“God,” he groaned, stumbling toward the bed. “My head is spinning. What was in that soup p>
𝗙і𝘯𝖽 yо𝗎r 𝖿avо𝗋𝗂𝘵е 𝗀𝗲n𝗋е o𝗻 𝖻e𝗅ոо𝗏𝗲l𝗌.𝗰o𝗆
“Nothing good,” Skye muttered. She moved to the window, trying to open it. It was jammed. Of course.
She turned around.
Liam was looking at her.
His eyes were glazed, dark, and unfocused. His pupils were blown wide. The drug was hitting him fast, stripping away his logic, leaving only instinct. And right now, his instinct was focused entirely on the woman in the red velvet dress.
“Skye,” he rasped. He took a step toward her. “You look… incredible p>
“Liam, sit down,” Skye warned, backing up until she hit the door. “You’re drugged. It’s not real p>
“It feels real,” Liam murmured.
He lunged.
He was heavy. He pinned her against the wood, his body heat radiating like a furnace. His hands fumbled for her waist, sliding up the velvet fabric. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply.
“You smell like rain,” he whispered. “Why do you always smell like rain p>
Skye pushed at his chest. It was like pushing a boulder. “Liam! Stop! Get off me p>
He didn’t hear her. The drug had short-circuited his brain. He pressed his hips against hers, grinding clumsily. He tried to kiss her, his mouth wet and searching.