Food?

Selene didn’t seem to care. She turned back to him with that same knowing smirk, stepping in close again, too close. Her fingers traced over his forearm, dancing lightly over his skin as she pressed against his side.

He stiffened. He could feel his mother’s ample cleavage press against him.

"Relax, sweetheart," she purred, dragging a single nail down his chest. "I don’t bite-" her lips curled, eyes gleaming wickedly, "-unless you want me to."

Nathan was not playing this game. But he’d just seen firsthand what she could do, and the last thing he needed was to end up like Sienna, mindlessly obeying whatever twisted command Selene saw fit to throw at him.

So he **** himself to smirk. **** himself to ease his shoulders, play along—for now.

"Fine," he said. "You’re here now. What do you want?"

Selene grinned, apparently pleased with his cooperation.

She turned on her heel, sauntering toward the couch with all the ease of someone who owned the place. Flopping onto it with zero regard for modesty, she stretched her arms over her head, letting out a contented sigh as she sank into the cushions.

"First things first," she said, draping one leg lazily over the other. "Food. It’s been centuries since I’ve had human cuisine, and I think I deserve a little treat." She flicked a wrist toward the kitchen. "Be a dear and get me something to eat, hmm?"

Nathan didn’t argue. He didn’t want to test her patience. With one last glance at Sienna, who was still dutifully scrubbing plates like nothing was wrong, he turned and made his way to the fridge.

When he returned to the hall, though, he had to catch his breath due to the sight in front of him.

Selene was sprawled out on the couch in a way he had never seen his mother before. One arm draped lazily over the back, the other tracing idle circles over the exposed skin of her thigh. Her blouse—if it could even be called that anymore—hugged her chest *just right*, riding up ever so slightly as she shifted, stretching long and slow.

Nathan quickly averted his gaze, gritting his teeth. This isn’t Mom. This isn’t Mom.

Selene just laughed.

"Oh, darling," she crooned, tilting her head as she watched him squirm. "You’re so fun."

Nathan set the plate down on the table with a little more **** than necessary. "You gonna tell me what you really want, or are we just playing house now?"

Selene leaned forward, resting her chin in her palm. "You catch on quick," she murmured, voice rich with amusement. "Let’s just say… I intend to make the most of this little accident."

Nathan didn’t like the way she said that.

"As a being of chaos," she continued, toying with the hem of her skirt, "I thrive on corruption. *Perversion*, to be specific." Her lips parted in a slow, satisfied smile. "And I need *you* to indulge. To play along."

Nathan exhaled sharply. "So what? You want me to—"

"Shh," she cut in, pressing a finger against his lips. "No need to say it. You’ll see soon enough."

And then—

Knock. knock.