Henry arches a brow. “I didn’t think you would care if I fucked someone else, lovely. Now that I realize you’re jealous⁠—”

“I’m not jealous!”

His lips twitch. “Now that I realize you are determined to have me to yourself, I promise my eternal fidelity.”

I clench my teeth. I imagine how satisfying it would be to press my fingers into the soft notch at the bottom of his throat just to make him gag. “I meant that I don’t need or want your protection. I can take care of myself.”

He shakes his head. “In Lunameade, I have no doubt, but the quickest way to get hurt in Mountain Haven is to believe that you don’t need anyone else. Do not flirt with others. Do not wander far alone. And never, under any circumstances, run from me.”

I want to push. Maybe it’s a lifetime of restriction and the freedom of finally being away from my family, but I want to stretch the limits—rattle the bars of my cage and see what he does when I do.

“What happens if I run?”

Something menacing flashes in his eyes. “I’ll catch you.”

My mouth goes dry, but I refuse to break our eye contact.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Can we just have a truce? Can we be allies? We don’t have to be anything else. I know you don’t trust me in general. I know you didn’t plan on getting married again and I am just an obstacle in your path, but can you at least trust that it’s in my best interest to keep you alive?”

I cross my arms.

He licks his lips. “Why are you being extra prickly about this? It seems like you could use a good fuck.”

I scoff. “Doubtful I’ll find one here.”

He closes the distance between us and pushes me back against the wall, his hand resting against my neck. His dark blue eyes burn into me like he can see right through me and knows why I’m uncomfortable.

“No, that’s not it.” He lets out a low laugh. “You almost let me fuck you the night we met. This is something else. Tell me.”

I look away, searching for anything to focus on but the intensity of his gaze. I hate this. I hate that I have to let him see this. I don’t want to lose the upper hand.

His thumb strokes my jaw. “Allies, Harlow?”

I have to give him something. I’ve pushed enough that he’ll feel like I’m compromising.

“Allies.” I swallow down my dignity and blurt out the truth. “I’ve never had an orgasm with someone else.”

He smirks until he sees that I’m not messing with him. “How is that possible? You don’t seem like the type to settle for someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing. Is it an emotional thing—like, you need to be in love?”

I scoff, brushing his hand away and crossing the room to stare out the window instead of meeting his gaze. I can’t look at him for this.

“Love has nothing to do with it.” I sigh and drop my head back. “It’s impossible to relax when I’m with someone because no matter how much they remind themselves that they can’t kiss me, it’s a reflex of affection for other people. I have never been able to lose myself enough with someone else to get over the edge because I was too worried about keeping them alive.”

When I turn, he still looks wide-eyed. “So you’ve never⁠—”

I blow out an exasperated sigh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I know how to get myself off. I’ve done it in front of other people, just never had someone else doing it for me.”

The recognition dawns on him, and I feel too exposed. “You can’t control your poison?”

I brush my fingers over my lips. “Not here. Every person I’ve ever kissed on the mouth has died.”

He stares at me, slack-jawed, and the admission is almost worth seeing him look so stupefied.

Then his mouth tilts into a smirk, and I hate him. “So I was your first real kiss?”

It would be so satisfying to slap that smile off his face. “You hardly seem the sentimental type.”

He shifts and plays with the stitching on the book cover. “So you can’t control it in your lips, but you can with any other touch. You can summon it or banish it at will from your hands like you did with my wine at our engagement dinner.”

I chew my lip. It makes me nervous that he knows this secret. Not even my parents know, though that’s mostly out of spite. Aidia doesn’t even know because I didn’t want to give her something she had to hide from them.

In my early days as the Poison Vixen, I did have to kiss my victims. The magic in my hands was untested. It’s hard to practice without victims to practice on, and it was easier to kiss them. I learned about new poisonous plants and their effects, the speed with which they could kill a victim, and how painful the death was. There had never been such an opportunity for creativity.

Over time, I became more comfortable using my hands first and my lips as a backup. I also got to experiment with using different types of poison.

That secret created a near-constant conflict when I was with Bea. She hated that I was kissing strangers, even if it was to kill them. I liked that it made her jealous—liked that I could get a reaction out of someone so steady.

It was the one secret that was just for me. Until now.

I hope it wasn’t a mistake to surrender this so quickly.

“Keep that to yourself,” I say. “I prefer to be underestimated. You learn a lot from people by how they treat someone they think is weaker.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Your secret is safe with me.”

I believe him for now, though I expect the moment it makes sense for him to share it with someone else, he will. I cannot count on him to be more than a temporary friend because I have precious little hope to start with. I have the slimmest opportunity to save Aidia and very little time to do it. I need something valuable to bring back to my parents so I can get the key to the tunnel and get her away from Rafe before she breaks for good.

I turn my back to Henry and flip through the book again until I come across an illustration that depicts a woman whose limbs are tied to the four posts of the bed. “So, is it like this? Will I be restrained?”

Suddenly, he’s behind me, his body pressed to my backside. My heart kicks into a faster rhythm as his fingers skim my hip.

“Would you like to be?” His voice is different—low and gruff in a way that twists my stomach in knots.

“No, I don’t think I would.”

He chuckles, his breath ruffling my hair. “No, I don’t think so either. You like to think you’re in charge.”

“I am.”

He runs his fingers up my waist, then higher, sliding his palm to my stomach and pressing my body back against him. “Let’s test that theory.” He presses a soft kiss behind my ear.

“What are you⁠—”

“Shh,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. “You’re going to have to get used to me touching you—make them believe that you enjoy it.”

“It’s a good thing I’m an exceptional actress,” I say, but my voice is too breathy to be believable.

“We’ll have our wedding ceremony and party, just like I imagine you do in Lunameade.” He kisses my neck, and it’s so nice not to worry he will accidentally kill himself by brushing his lips to mine.

His breath ghosts over the nape of my neck as he speaks. “Then we’ll be brought to the ceremony room. There’s a bed at the center and couches and seating around the perimeter where everyone is welcome to station themselves.”

“To watch?” I ask.

He nips at my neck, and I gasp.

“Yes. To witness me claiming my new wife. To be certain that I’m capable of pleasing her.”

I frown. “Plenty of women can’t get off with a partner by no fault of their own.”

“Yes, but there needs to be a believable connection. To make sure that neither of us is faking our commitment to each other. And there’s particular pressure on me as their heir to be able to please his wife. If I can’t deliver on my commitment to you, I won’t be able to deliver for them, and since my family has already failed to protect them once, the pressure is on.”