Not even my father knew I strapped a blade to my thigh. It was a form of insurance should the dark power that lurked beneath my skin fail me and Crowther ever tried anything.

I smiled, tapping his chest. "That's to plunge into your cold black heart the first chance I get."

Graysen laughed in delight, the sound rippling around us. He tipped his head to the side with a half-smile. "I have no heart. There's only ash in the space where it should be."

This time it was my turn to laugh. "And you call me a liar, Graysen Crowther." I splayed my fingers across his chest, right over his heart where I could feel the raised flesh of the branded wyrm beneath the dress shirt. The pulse of his heartbeat, thudding in my ears, picked up along with mine. I wiggled my brows and shot back a smug smile. "Whenever we're together your heartbeat syncs with mine."

He froze, and I watched dark emotion war all over his features as his lips slightly parted in surprise.

Oh...he didn't know that, did he?

A noise behind us. Footsteps. Male laughter.

"Leave," he growled, not tearing his gaze from mine.

Whoever it was hastily retreated back inside.

"That wasn't very nice," I frowned.

"I'm not nice."

I made a pfff-ting noise, rolling my eyes. "Don't I fucking know it?"

The change in him came in slow increments. The harsh look he'd pinned me with melted away under the heat of his smoldering lust.

My heart stuttered.

My blood thrummed.

The thing inside of me stirred.

A hot wind, at odds with the storm sweeping in, ruffled my hair.

I couldn't hold his intense stare so I dipped my gaze to his mouth but that was even worse. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip before straight, white teeth raked at the soft flesh. I couldn't tear my eyes from his stupidly beautiful mouth as his sensual lips parted. "I think right this moment, you want me to kiss you again." His hand suddenly snapped out and ensnared the vulnerable spot around my throat.

"Holy shit, Crowther," I gasped, every nerve-ending sparking at his wicked hold.

Even if he hadn't fixed me in place there was no way I could have moved away. I didn't want to move away.

A rough fingerpad tapped the blade of my collarbone. "I think I'm under your skin and I've been there since we met and you can't get me out of your head. I've taken up residence there. And you want me, little bird. Badly."

For a long moment, I could only gape at him as his finger stroked my skin.

Get it together, Wychthorn!

I snorted, narrowing my eyes as I shook my head from side to side in a deliberately slow movement. "Uh-uh nope."

Shit, he was right though. Fuck it.

He smiled as if he didn't believe me.

I needed to shove him away. But my body didn't respond. My mind did, but my body didn't. It hummed, delighting in the heat swirling between us.

"Gods, your ego. I feel nothing for you." Even I was impressed with how coldly I delivered the words.

His laughter rumbled from his throat. He canted forward, bowing his head to get right into my face, and said softly, "I can taste your lies. They taste sweet, like honey." He cupped my chin with a hand, tilting my head upward. My eyes startled wide as his thumb brushed over my lower lip, back and forth in lazy, seductive strokes, the roughness of his thumbpad tugging at the soft flesh.

I stopped breathing.

What is he doing?

As he slowly traced a line along my jaw, every single insignificant part of me shuddered awake as if I'd been roused from a deep sleep.

He closed the gap, settling into the space between my thighs, his mouth hovering so close to my own, his warm breath fanned my cheeks.

Shit, shit, shit—

Sage paced back and forth, conflicted between wanting to protect me or leave me be. Gods, I knew exactly how the wraith-wolf felt, I was torn between wanting to push Graysen away or pull him closer.

I can't, I can't, I can't—

I slid my hand between us, pressing my fingertips against his mouth, whispering, "Don't."

I couldn't. I couldn't let him kiss me.

His lips widened into a devilish smirk.

"Don't—What?"

"Don't kiss me."

"You want to be kissed."

No.

Yes.

"Not by you."

"Such a liar, little bird."

His tongue darted out to lick the tip of my middle finger. I let out a gasp, instantly wishing I'd bit it back the moment dark intent glittered in the depth of his gaze. My reflection in those black eyes mirrored his desire.

I can't want him, he's my enemy!

I moaned, softly, as those lips parted and he sucked my finger into his mouth. "H-holy hellsgate."

We breathed one another's air, staring at one another. It was too much, his tongue sensually sliding around my finger, softly sucking, my body desperate for more.

My lips parted on a sigh and my eyes fluttered shut.

Anticipation, exhilaration, thrummed through me.

He let my finger free—making a wet popping noise—and I found myself grasping his shoulder tightly, my nails digging into his hard muscles. My entire focus was narrowed to his fingertips brushing down my neck. There was nothing but my senses, overwhelmed as my body ignited under his caress, the warmth of his breath kissing my lips, his masculine scent, the whispering sound of fabric as he moved closer, the feel of his hard body leaning into mine.

I gasped, shuddering, as something silky brushed against my jawline—his hair I realized—and he pressed into the sensitive hollow at the base of my throat. It didn't feel like a fingertip. It was his mouth, a lick of his hot, wet tongue.

His words scorched my flesh. "That doesn't feel like nothing to me, little bird."

Cool air swirled between us as he pulled away.

My eyes flashed open, widening to see a smirk of triumph on his face.

This was a joke.

I was just a stupid joke to him.

Hot humiliation heated my cheeks and stung like the embrace of barbed wire. "You fucking asshole!" I struck out, wild and furious. His hand stopped mine mid-motion, his grip around my wrist was painful as we shared each other's breath.

We remained that way, frozen. A clash of wills.

Why had I let myself give in to him?

Because I'm a fool.

A stupid, stupid fool.

"Fuck you, Crowther," I snarled.

"See, that's all I've been trying to get you to do," he huffed with laughter as he let my wrist free.

Oh, he thought he was so fucking clever with his wordplay!

I kicked out, wanting to drive a sharp heel between his legs and stab him in the balls. But—

Shit. Oh, fucking hellsgate!

My arms flailed as I lost balance—

And tipped backward—

I shrieked as I fell off the stone railing.

He lunged, grabbing my waist just before I tumbled onto the pavers below.

Admittedly it wasn't a great distance to fall, but it would have fucking hurt if my head had cracked upon the pavers.

Graysen made that tsking sound he was so fond of making, as he hauled me over the railing, and put me back on my feet.

I twisted around in his grip, still burning inside with the embarrassment of being toyed with. And now the humiliations just kept on piling up. Godsdammit.

"No 'thanks' Wychthorn?"

All I could do was shake my head and deliver a scowl that said—Gods, seriously? As if.

And he was still in my space. This time I shoved hard. Maybe not hard enough to actually push him back, but back he stepped.

"Burn in hells, Crowther!" I snapped, smoothing down my hair, and readjusting my dress.

He chuckled, a deep rich sound. "Someday, I probably will."

"Someday soon, I hope." I warily edged around him and his grin only grew wider. I flung a dark scowl at him and stalked toward the open French doors, cursing myself and the stupid heels I'd been forced to wear tonight. "Gods," I growled, shaking a foot, trying to kick the heel off. Of course, it wouldn't come loose, they were buckled on. "Why are they so fucking hard to walk in!"

The laughter behind me only grew more hearty.

A brighter light fell all around me as I stepped back inside the mansion. I shoved back the clashing sounds, the chatter and the music, bringing up the wall of white noise to help deal with the surrounding noise. As I strode across the parquet flooring, I didn't need to push past the Pelans, they shifted aside as soon as they saw Sage stalking ahead of my figure. I ignored my mother as she popped another tiny white pill before waving out to me to come and talk with the Pelan's father, and decided instead to find another glass of wine, or something stronger.

Stronger, definitely.

My inadvertent gaze landed right on Evvie.

I came to an abrupt halt, drunk-swaying.

All the tension and spite and humiliation drained from me, replaced by dread.

Corné was leaning close, whispering something in my sister's ear, his hand possessively gripping her arm. Whatever he said, caused my sister's smile to slip and the brightness in her blue-green eyes to fade.

What did he just say to her?

I scrambled to listen in, but I was too late.

Evvie took the empty glass from Corné and walked away. I was about to follow her when I caught the arched look Corné gave his sister, Carola, his lips twisting into a sly smirk.

"What is it?" Graysen asked, stepping flush beside me. There wasn't anything mocking in his tone, simply concern. Whatever happened out there on the patio between us was instantly forgotten as soon as he'd witnessed my reaction to Corné.

Sadly—the horrible uncomfortable truth of my life—there was only one person I could talk to this about. Him.

My shoulders slumped with defeat as I turned to look up at him. "I don't like him."

He raised a brow, expectantly.

"When her smile falters," I elaborated. "He likes it too much."

With a quick wave of his fingers, Graysen silently requested a servant to approach with a whiskey and a glass of water. He handed the tall glass of water over to me while saying, "The Pelans might even be worse than me."

"That's saying something," I muttered before taking a mouthful of water, savoring the cool fresh liquid spilling down my throat.

"Isn't it just."

Handing my empty glass to another servant, he took my arm, supporting me as he guided me away—my steps were still a little wobbly and drunk-woven—which I suppose was nice of him. I certainly deserved a little bit of kindness after he'd toyed with me out there on the patio. I glanced upward. "You don't like them either."

"That's a fucking understatement."

"Why?" He'd found us a little spot on the outskirts of the party where fewer people were milling, to a pretty settee with cushions patterned in ivy. I flopped down, kicking my feet out, blowing a lock of hair that had fallen across my eyes.

Sage sat down on his haunches beside me, his cool misty tail brushing up against my feet. The wraith-wolf kept a vigilant eye on Graysen but for the moment seemed to tolerate his presence without snarling or growling at the man.

"Come on." I urged Graysen, nudging him with an elbow as he sat down beside me and, hitched an ankle over a knee.

Glancing down at his large hands cradling his drink, his mouth pursed a little as if chewing over the words before he said them. He turned back to me with exaggerated slowness, his gaze stony and cold. "I mostly have a problem with just one of the Pelans. Though he's learned everything from his father, his brothers."

"Who? Which one?" My gaze skimmed over the room at all the Pelans. There were four brothers in total. And what did he mean—Learned everything?

Graysen opened his mouth to answer, then frowned, clamping his lips tight, before giving a slight shake of his head, black hair ruffling with the motion. I wanted to press him to answer but Carola's voice ensnared my attention. She was talking to her brother, both of them speaking in hushed tones, but that was nothing for someone like me.

"She seems so...vanilla," Carola said.

I watched her as she stared at my sister making her way to the wet bar.

"I might break her of that, introduce her to new things," Corné said dryly. "She might like it."

Carola snorted. "Doubtful." She swirled her glass of wine, before taking a sip. Her sharp brown eyes returned to Evvie, pouring yet again another measure of scotch. "She's not going to hold your interest for long."

He sighed. "She bores me even now."

I sat up straight, my eyes flaring wide as my heart thundered in my chest. He really doesn't like her?!

"I'm assuming you're not going to give up your mistress, then, even for a Wychthorn trophy."

He snorted, rocking a little in his heels. "What do you think?"

My mouth gaped and a sick feeling, nothing to do with the alcohol, roiled inside my belly.

Graysen's gaze was trained in the same direction. Disgust creased fine lines around his eyes and tightened his mouth. With his enhanced senses he could overhear them just as well as I, and by that foul look on his face, he'd heard what the Pelans had whispered to one another.

I turned horrified eyes to him. "He...he has a mistress?"

Graysen grunted his acknowledgment. Then gave me a suspicious look. "How do you know that?"

He didn't know my senses were highly attuned. "I...ah...I've heard the rumors." I shifted uncomfortably on the settee, turning a dark glare on the Pelans as my hands balled into fists. "My father needs to stop this."

"He won't."

I half-twisted back to Graysen, astounded. "He will once he hears what I've learned." I went to move toward my father speaking with the elder Pelans but Graysen's hand on my arm stopped me.

"Wychthorn, your father couldn't stop us claiming you—"

"That's different." My father couldn't overturn The Horned Gods' boon, but he could stop this. "Corné...he doesn't even like her."

"That's not stopped unions between Houses before."

"But—"

His fingers squeezed my arm. It wasn't hard, it was just a reminder to listen before I lost myself to that smoldering fire that usually was directed at him. I wanted to burn Corné into ash. "Save your breath, Wychthorn. Your father desires this. Enough to promise your sister to those sick, arrogant fucks."

"Why?" Why would he do that?" He'd been careful and meticulous with Evvie. Her introduction to our society, to all the potential suitors, had been calculating and deliberate. He'd sifted through all the possible House alignments...waiting, waiting...until he had to play his last card—Evvie.

"They're on the verge of giving birth to something that will gain The Horned Gods' favor."

Birthing something—such an odd phrase. I wanted to ask further about it, but my heart was too worried for my sister. "It's not right," I whispered. Did Evvie know any of this? Did she know that Corné had a mistress he had no intention of giving up? She couldn't know it. If she did, she'd never marry him.

My chest twisted painfully.

Evvie had paused in her journey back to Corné to chat with his mother. She gave small, shy smiles in that way of her, I knew she held hope that Corné's mother would like her.

Evvie was the perfect Wychthorn princess. She'd do anything to please our father. She knew her place within our family. Annalise was married to House Reska. And me, I'd been claimed by House Crowther. Evvie was the only daughter left to our father with value and the potential to gain an advantage.

Graysen half-twisted around to face me better on the settee. He braced an elbow on its backrest. "Even the great Wychthorns can fall from grace and be replaced by another House if the Horned Gods will it. Your father will do everything he can to ensure that never happens." Graysen's next words, murmured quietly, resonated like no other. They were a shard of glass piercing my heart. "Gift a kind-hearted princess to a monster. Clip a little bird's wings."

I didn't know if the first related to Evvie or to me or both of us. I looked back at him. There was something dark lurking in his gaze and something else I couldn't quite place.

But he was right. So right, it hurt to hear it. Evvie would marry Corné, even knowing he had a mistress, even knowing he didn't like her, even knowing what he would expect of her in bed—for our father, for our House. Time and hurt would wear her down and all that beauty and grace and kindness would fade.

"How bad will it be for Evvie to marry Corné?"

"Your sister, little bird, is marrying into a nest of vipers."

Graysen reached over to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I don't know why it didn't bother me. Perhaps that kiss, that first touch, had smashed the wall between us.

"But she's doing it with her eyes wide open." His gaze slid from mine over to my sister. He swallowed a mouthful of whiskey before turning back to give me a sly wink. "And that fact alone impresses the fuck out of me. Let's hope she has enough fire burning inside to obliterate that fucking asshole before he breaks her."

And then I felt it—felt Him.