I was still kneeling on the carpet, staring at the puddle left behind after the magical cloud disappeared. My body was shaking violently. My teeth had started performing an uncontrollable percussion solo, and this wet T-shirt clung to my skin like a deeply uncomfortable second layer. But my curiosity was far greater than my discomfort.
"Wait!" I shouted, my voice hoarse but demanding.
Caspian stopped in front of his bedroom door. He didn't turn around, but his broad shoulders visibly tensed. I struggled to my feet, water dripping from the ends of my hair onto the expensive marble floor. "You can't just drop a bomb like that and walk away. Powers leaking? A trigger? What do you think I am, a short-circuited cable?"
Caspian slowly turned around. His expression was blank, but something glinted in his eyes—something sharper than mere anger. He walked toward me, and every step made the room feel as if it were turning into a meat freezer.
"You really don't know when to shut up, do you?" he hissed. He stopped directly in front of me, his aura so oppressive that I felt the oxygen around me suddenly thin out. "You should be grateful I didn't throw you out onto the street when that ridiculous cloud appeared in my living room."
"Grateful?" I laughed bitterly, even though my chest felt tight. "I just took a rain shower indoors, Mr. Vane. I deserve an explanation before I start thinking I've lost my mind and need to be committed."
Caspian let out a long sigh. He ran his fingers back through his black hair, a gesture that looked incredibly human and yet somehow so... majestic. He walked over to the lounge chair and sat down with his legs crossed, watching me as if I were a very noisy little insect.
"Sit down, Avery. You look a mess, and it's ruining the aesthetics of my room," he said coldly.
I snorted and pulled over a dining chair, which thankfully didn't slide away on its own this time. "Okay, I'm sitting. Now tell me. Who are you, really? A wizard? A mutant? Or a circus performer with some cool magic tricks?"
Caspian gave me a faint smile—the kind of smug smile that made me want to throw a shoe at him. "A circus? You're insulting me. My name is Caspian Vane, and in my old world, they knew me as the Destroyer. The God of Destruction, if you need a more formal title."
I fell silent. My eyes blinked slowly. "The God... of Destruction?"
"Yes."
"The one who usually shows up in ancient mythology? The one whose favorite hobby is leveling cities with fire and earthquakes?"
"More or less," he replied casually, as if he'd just admitted to collecting stamps. "But I'm retired. I need peace and quiet. This human world is boring, but at least I can live here without another god trying to challenge me to a fight every five minutes. I need my powers to stay asleep."
I stared at him for a long time, trying to find any sign that he was joking. But his face was as blank as a whiteboard. "Okay, let's say I believe you. Then what does this have to do with me? Why can my emotions create... rain clouds?"
Caspian leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine. "Because you're a Catalyst. A trigger. In my world, humans like you are exceedingly rare—and extremely troublesome. You have an emotional frequency capable of piercing the 'seal' on my powers. When you're sad, angry, or overwhelmed by emotion, you unintentionally draw a little of my power out and turn it into a physical phenomenon."
"So you're saying..." I swallowed, my throat dry. "That rain cloud earlier..."
"Was a manifestation of your sadness using my energy," Caspian cut in. "If you get angry, this apartment might catch fire. If you're terrified enough, this entire building might collapse. You're a leak in my peaceful system, Avery Thorne."
I leaned back, feeling completely cornered. My life had just gone from failed-romance drama to a second-rate fantasy novel. "This is insane. Completely insane. I'm just an unemployed graphic designer, not a weather controller!"
"Unfortunately, the universe doesn't care about your profession." Caspian stood and approached me with slow, threatening steps. He bent down, bracing both hands on the back of my chair and trapping me between his solid arms.
The cold radiating from his body raised goosebumps on my skin, but strangely, a spark of heat flickered when his face was this close. The scent of pine and storm filled my senses again.
I should have leaned back. Any sensible woman would have leaned back. Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, my wet hair dripping onto his wrist, and stared at his mouth because it was right there and my brain had apparently filed a resignation letter.
He noticed.
Of course he noticed. His gaze followed mine, then dropped to my lips. I ran my tongue nervously over the bottom one, tasting rain, and his knuckles whitened on the back of the chair. The wood creaked under his grip.
"Don't," he said, very low.
"Don't what?" I whispered. My voice came out embarrassingly breathless.
"Look at me like that." His face dipped another inch. His nose nearly brushed mine. I could feel the cold of him and, beneath it, a strange heat, as if something buried deep inside him had just opened one eye. "You have no idea what you're tempting."
"Maybe I'm not tempting anything. Maybe you're just very close."
The corner of his mouth twitched—not a smile, but the ghost of one. For a single suspended second, neither of us breathed, and I was certain he was going to close the distance.
Then he drew in a sharp breath through his nose, the way a man pulls back from the edge of a cliff.
"Listen carefully, Avery," he whispered, his voice low and sharp. "I'm allowing you to stay here because I have to keep an eye on you. If you were out there and your emotions exploded, you'd attract creatures far more dangerous than I am. But there's a price you have to pay."
I held my breath, staring into his dark gray eyes. "What?"
Caspian straightened, looking at me with an utterly serious expression that left no room for argument.
"You are not allowed to disrupt my peace. If you get sad or angry again, that power will leak out again, and this time the apartment may not survive. So your task now is simple, but absolute..."
Caspian paused, a threatening, crooked smile appearing on his thin lips.
"You have to stay happy. Smile, laugh, or do whatever it takes to keep your mood stable. For the safety of the world, and more importantly, for the safety of your home... you're forbidden to mope."
I gaped at him. "Are you kidding? You just told me my life is in danger, that I'm living with the God of Destruction, and now you're ordering me to be happy?"
"Exactly." Caspian turned and walked toward his bedroom without the slightest hint of guilt. "Don't let me see a single tear tomorrow morning, or you'll learn what it's like to be thrown out by a real god."
Caspian's bedroom door closed with a soft thud, leaving me dripping wet in the living room. I stared at the enormous window displaying the glittering city below, feeling as if my world had just been turned upside down.
"Happiness on a schedule?" I muttered to myself, my voice echoing through the quiet room. "Crazy. He's really a devil."
I glanced toward the table, and there, my wilted cactus had suddenly sprouted a tiny, bright-red flower bud. Apparently, even though I was furious, some part of me felt... challenged.
But the question was, how was I supposed to stay happy when I was sharing a roof with the coldest man in the entire universe?