“Whenever you’re ready,” I say, pressing a dagger into his palm.

He stands, testing the weapon’s balance. Then he takes a deep breath and throws. The blade streaks through the air, hitting the center of the farthest target. I hand him another blade, another, watching that cocky smirk grow as each weapon hits its mark.

Yanking off the blindfold, he flashes me a sharp grin. “Top that. If you can.”

I brush past him, letting my shoulder graze his chest. He sucks in a sharp breath and a thrill goes through me—anticipation. “You know what I love about wagers?” I peruse the weapons cabinet, fingers trailing over hilts and blades. “It’s all in the details. The precise words. The parameters. In our agreement, I never specified the type of weapon we had to use. Only that it had to hit closest to the center.”

I see the instant it clicks. His eyes sharpen and fix on my hand as it closes around the recurve bow mounted on the wall.

“One of the benefits of growing up in Hellevig,” I continue, testing the draw, the tension, “is that all noblewomen are trained in the ‘genteel’ arts. Painting, pianoforte…” My smile sharpens. “Archery.”

He growls as I nock the first arrow, imagining it’s his heart I’m aiming at. I draw back until the fletching grazes my cheek, breathing in. Shifting my aim just slightly. Exhale…

And release.

The arrow hits the leftmost target. Bullseye.

The Wolf’s hand clenches at his side, the barest tell.

“Seems those ‘genteel’ arts paid off,” I say mildly. “One down. Let’s up the stakes.”

I lower the bow, reaching for my robe’s sash. The silk whispers as it falls to the floor. The Wolf’s eyes flare, taking in the black lace and silk nightgown. Sheer mesh clings to my breasts and hips, hiding absolutely nothing. There’s naked… and then there’s this. Bait dangled on a hook to tempt a monster.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice is a low rasp.

“What’s it look like? You said to surprise you if I wanted the full set of knives.” I run a hand down my side, smiling as he tracks the movement. A muscle flickers in his jaw. “So consider this a thank you for the present. You did get this for me, didn’t you? It came in my clothing bundle last month.”

I slide my finger over the delicate lace barely covering my nipple. A harsh breath leaves him. He says something under his breath that sounds like a curse.

“Tell me something,” I say, reaching for the second arrow. “When you brought home this nightgown, what were you thinking about? Me wearing it?” I slant him a look as I nock the arrow and draw it back. “Or were you too busy imagining all the ways you’d get me out of it?”

The arrow buries itself in the target, right next to the first. Dead center.

I grin. “Two for two. Sure you don’t want to just give up?”

He’s so still, every muscle tense and ready to lunge. To grab. There’s no concealing the hunger in his expression, as if he’s thinking up all the ways he’ll dominate me, claim me, make me his.

But I’m not done yet.

I spin the third arrow between my fingers. “No? Okay then, one last question. In these fantasies of yours, did you take your time undressing me, or did you just bend me over and fuck me in it?”

His chest heaves, hands flexing at his sides. I have the Wolf right where I want him, and this power is dizzying. It’s depraved how much I want him on his knees for me. At my mercy for once.

“You really want to know?” he asks roughly.

“I really want to win,” I reply with a slow grin.

And maybe torture him a bit. Payback for all the nights he’d left me aching after those healing sessions.

The embers in his irises glow. “I thought about having you in every way.” The admission seems torn from somewhere deep. Somewhere aching. “Against every wall. Bent over every table. In every bed. I’ve fucked you a thousand different times in my head. Made you scream. Made you beg. Made you break.”

Heat pools between my legs. I know what he’s doing—he’s telling me what he’ll do to me if I lose. Making me imagine all the ways he’d take me. But I’ve been living with the Wolf leaving me wet and wanting for five weeks. Every damn night he heals me, my body reminds me how good he could fuck me. It’s not going to work.

I bring the bow back up. “That’s too bad. Because tonight, you’ll go to bed aching and desperate. And alone.”

I let the last arrow fly. It hits right in the center, not even a millimeter of space between its sisters. A perfect grouping.

Victory.

“I won,” I taunt, facing him. “Say I won fair and square.”

He stares at me, and he looks furious. Ravenous.

“Come on, Wolf. Three little words. ‘You beat me.’”

Scowling, he snatches the bow from me and tosses it aside. “Fair and square? That was cheating, you arrogant creature.”

I grin slowly. “Was it? Or did I outplay a stronger opponent? Move. Countermove. Disarm. Attack, remember? It’s not my fault you walked right into it.”

For a breathless moment, I can’t tell if he’s going to kiss me or kill me.

But then he laughs, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard, resonant and deep. And dangerous.

His amusement feels like he’s slitting my throat.

“Just wait,” he says, leaning into the weapons cupboard to pull out a leather bundle. “When you least expect it? Payback’s going to be a bitch, Devaliant.”

The Wolf sets the bundle on a table and unrolls it to reveal two daggers perfectly matching the ones he gave me in the garden. They’re exquisite—the steel folded and layered in the unmistakable rippling patterns of Turpori craftsmanship. These aren’t just weapons. They’re works of art.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“They’ll do.”

“Oh, they’ll do, will they? Entire kingdoms have been razed for steel like that. Maybe show a little appreciation.”

I can’t tell if he’s serious or trying to get a rise out of me. It’s impossible to know with him.

I reach for the blades, but he’s suddenly there at my back, scent invading my senses. Making it difficult to focus on anything but him.

“Want to know a secret?” he asks, plucking a dagger from its sheath.

He sets the edge above my collarbone. Not pressing. Just resting there like a promise. Like a threat.

“The first cut is always special. These blades are ancient. They’ve tasted kings and warriors. Generals and thieves.” His free hand slides up to grip my jaw, angling my head back. “They remember every drop of blood that’s ever christened them.”

My breath comes faster now. “Is that so?”

I feel his smile against my neck, hungry and sharp. “Oh, yes. They remember everything.”

There’s a sudden, bright flare of pain as he slices the blade across my chest. My lips part on a gasp. Before I can process what’s happening, he ducks down and—

His tongue sweeps over the shallow cut.

A whimper slips out of me, and he answers with a groan, lapping up the trickle of blood. He ends his taste with a tender kiss.

“Been wanting to taste you for weeks,” he murmurs. “Ever since you stopped talking to me. Drove me fucking crazy.”

This isn’t happening.

But it is. And worse—I’m leaning into it. Into him. Into this dark, twisted thing between us that feels too much like falling off a cliff. No handholds, no rescue—just him and me and the long plunge to the bottom.

When he finally pulls back, his pupils are dilated, black overtaking his golden irises. He lifts the bloodied dagger and traces his tongue along the edge. Savoring every last drop of me.

“How long do you think this’ll last?” His voice is rough with want. “One more month? Two? Before I get bored?”

The more interesting you are, the longer you live.

And just like that, the moment shatters. A red haze falls over my vision. With a snarl, I wrench out of his hold and shove him back into his chair. He goes down with a grunt of surprise, those massive wings flaring wide. Then I pluck the dagger from his grip and slash it across his bare chest.