The castle's north wing was warmer than the rest, not with the heat of firewood, but with the warmth of wine, bodies, and noise.
Laughter echoed down the hall.
Inside one of the chambers, Kael lay sprawled across a massive bed, his shirt half open as he raised a goblet of wine to his lips.
He wasn't alone. Two girls giggled on the bed beside him. One leaned on his chest, her hair full of curls. The other traced a claw along the line of his throat in a playful, possessive way.
The girls were werewolves from a nearby pack house. Both were naked. One had fresh bite marks on her collarbone, while the other purred like a cat in heat.
"I thought Lycans were supposed to be deadly," one murmured in his ear. "You're just lazy and pretty."
Dain chuckled "Deadly gets dull without the reward."
"Mm," the other said, nibbling his jaw. "And what do you think we are, commander?"
He grinned. "My well-earned reward."
Then the door creaked open.
Jasmine stood in the doorway with her arms folded. "Kael," she said flatly. "We need to talk."
"About wine and victory," he said turning to lick one girl's neck. "Which do you want to talk about?"
"One of your victories needs an escort."
That got his attention.
He sat up slowly, moving the girls aside. "Victory, you say?"
"Yes," she said firmly. "I need to go to the old abandoned watchtower."
Dain raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"It's dangerous, and I can't go alone."
He tilted his head, eyeing her. "Does the king know?"
"Would I be here if he did?"
He barked a short laugh. "Fair enough."
The wolf girls were clearly annoyed at the interruption. One rolled her eyes and reached for the wine. The other curled back into the pillows.
"What's in it for me?" he asked, not entirely convinced.
She gave a small, firm smile. "I'll give you a bottle of my aged wine, rare and priceless, if you come with me and keep me safe."
"And for one day, you'll be my personal slave."
She gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "You're out of your mind."
"That's my only condition."
Silence stretched, then her jaw flexed. "Fine. One day."
His expression softened, weary but satisfied. Then without another word, she turned and left. He ran a hand through his hair, then turned back toward the bed.
The girls hadn't moved far. One was still sipping from his goblet, the other sprawled across his pillows like a cat in heat. He climbed back into the warm bed, but his thoughts didn't follow.
What could be so important to Jasmine that she was willing to trade her freedom for it, he wondered.
"Something troubling you, commander?" one of the girls purred, brushing her lips along his jaw.
"Nothing worth saying," he muttered.
She laughed and climbed over him, her hair falling across his chest. The other girl moved closer and licked the shell of his ear, Kael let out a low sound of pleasure and turned toward her with a slow, wicked smile.
"Ah… the siren's touch," he said to the girl now lying across his chest. "Or perhaps… the irresistible lure of a wolf who knows exactly what she's doing."
The girl above him, whose name might have been Lyra or Luna but was, for now, simply Delicious Distraction, shifted her hips, the small gesture sending a shiver down his spine.
The other girl, her name lost somewhere between a purr and a growl, kept nipping playfully at his earlobe and neck.
His hands, which had been idly caressing the back of the girl on his chest, slid to the one sitting astride him, pulling her closer, holding her more firmly against him.
Then, in one swift move, she slid onto him. She was so wet. Her hips began a slow, deliberate rhythm, each sway stealing the breath from his lungs.
Her eyes locked onto his, and in that moment, she was the hunter, and he the prey, willingly caught in her snare.
He let out a low growl, more wolf than man, savoring the pleasure as she moved up and down. He could feel his hardness striking deep against her inner walls.
Then Miss Purr, the one at his side, turned, her mouth descending hard on his.
Kael, the "pretty" commander as the ladies liked to call him, found himself utterly consumed by his well-earned reward, proving that sometimes, the most dangerous prey was the one who willingly walked into the trap… especially when the trap felt so utterly, deliciously right.
....
Selene's fury erupted like wildfire. She threw a crystal vase against the wall; it shattered, sending jagged shards across the floor. Books and papers flew in a chaotic storm as she paced, hands trembling with rage.
From the corner, the handsome, mysterious man who had appeared before, tall dark, watched silently. His eyes followed every toss, every scream, but he said nothing. There was a calmness in him that only seemed to stoke Selene's anger further.
"Why is he always defending her" she hissed, spinning toward him.
The man tilted his head, a faint smirk on his lips. "Well technically, she is his mate."
Selene's eyes narrowed. "And why are you even here?"
"Because you wanted me here," he said smoothly, almost teasing.
"I didn't ask you to come," she spat, her anger sharp as the shards at her feet.
"Ah," he murmured, stepping closer. "But you insisted I come."
Selene paused mid-step, glancing at the shards littering the floor. She picked up one.
"I have a plan, Rhylen," Selene said, her eyes suddenly blazing. "And whether you like it or not… you're going to help me see it through."
Rhylen's smirk deepened, but his voice remained smooth. "Oh? And what, pray tell, does the queen of fire intend to do this time?"
Selene's fingers tightened around the crystal, the edges biting slightly into her palm. "Oh, Lara," she whispered, a cold smile spreading across her lips. "You won't know what hit you. This time… you won't get away with it."