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He pulled a couple of vials from his bag and passed them to me, palm to palm. I peeked at the two corked tubes in my hand, at the bright red blood customary of lycans—different from the black blood of vampires—and the inky black venom, a thinner consistency than blood. He’d labeled them impeccably as usual.

I tucked them carefully into my bag and slid his satchel of powders and potions across the table. “You don’t have to worry about the Zilveren pack anymore,” I told him. “I’ll be acquiring samples soon.”

“Oh?”

I didn’t answer his implied question. Instead, I stood from the table and said, “Until next time, Devlin.”

13

BLOOD AND VENOM

AURA

The moment I let Sylvan into my office and shut the door, the realization hit. I would be in a locked room with a fucking lycan who could easily rip me to shreds and probably devour me, bones and all. Then again, he hadn’t thus far.

I’d been the one to render him immobile.

But hadn’t he been the one to disarm me with two words? Drop it.

This time, it wouldn’t be a letter opener as my weapon choice. I fingered the potion bottle in my alchemy belt. If he even so much as threatened me, it wouldn’t be a low dose of poison thrown at him, it would be lycan repel, followed by a lethal dose of nightshade.

“You’re staring at me,” said the beta.

“And?” I rolled my eyes and opened one of my drawers where I kept empty vials and syringes. I laid the objects on my desk before gesturing toward the chair in the corner.

I didn’t get visitors in my office aside from Magdalena, so I didn’t bother to keep the chair in front of my desk. Mags usually met me in the workshop in the rare moments when our shifts coincided. “Grab that chair,” I told Sylvan.

He was rooted in place for a while, every muscle in his body taut, indicating he was going to refuse, but then he stalked off to grab the chair. He set it down, and I said, “Sit.”

His eyes narrowed on me, jaw tightening.

“What? Not used to taking commands anymore since you’ve been playing alpha in your brother’s absence? Who’s entitled now?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a low tone, but he sat.

I grabbed a small vial of numbing powder and held it between my fingers. Sylvan stared at me expectantly, his eyes drifting from the vial back to my face.

“So … are we just going to stand here looking at whatever the hells that is?”

The thought of putting my hand anywhere near his mouth made my heart rate spike. I uncorked the vial and grabbed his hand, shaking a bit of the powder onto his palm. “Rub that onto your top gums, and try not to get it on your tongue or anywhere else. Your saliva will activate it, and it’ll start to numb wherever it touches. Your finger may get a bit numb, too, but the feeling will return.”

He stared at the powder in his hand. “How do I know you’re not just poisoning me again?”

I tucked the vial away and picked up a syringe. “I can stick this needle into your gum without the powder, if you’d like.” I smiled without humor. “Make your decision. I don’t have all day, lycan.”

“I do have a name, you know.”

“I don’t care.” I moved toward him with the needle, and he tensed, holding his other hand up.

He stared at the powder for a while longer then asked, “How am I supposed to get it on my top gums without it dropping onto my tongue or anywhere else?”

“Lick your finger then dip into it in the powder, genius.”

He sneered at me, but then after a few moments of hesitation, he licked his index finger. A strange sensation stirred within me, my gaze lingering on his lips. I shook my head to break the spell before setting a cloth down on the desk and tapping on it. He took the hint and dusted the rest of the powder onto the cloth then rubbed his hand on his trousers.

The clock ticked loudly in the silence as I waited. “Alright, fangs out.”

He lifted a brow.