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I tilt my head sideways and smile. Ragnor’s body is tense. His muscles are taut. I walk over and slide myself behind him, floating up to put my hands on his shoulders. “Is your little human not giving you what you need?” I whisper.

“Fuck you, Eve,” Ragnor barks, but I ignore him. His words lie. His body doesn’t.

“It’s not good for you,” I say softly. “I can help.” I slide my hands down his sides and tuck them into the front of his pants.

Sometimes, when I play this game, he grabs my wrists and jerks away from me. Today, he stays completely still.

I let my palm rest on the bulge of his cock. He tilts his hips, ever so slightly, and presses himself into my hand. “Do it,” he growls.

But I take my hand away and skip around him. Hopping onto the professor’s desk, I sweep his papers to the floor and open my legs. “No,” I shake my head. “Do me.”

Ragnor assesses me with dark eyes. I pull my skirt up around my waist and show him my cunt.

Then I reach into my pocket and take out a different vial. I drink down its contents in one, and hum as the F.H.B. burns my throat.

Ragnor strides over and takes a fistful of my hair. He pulls my head back and his pants down. He is fucking me hard, and loudly, when I hear her. The little mouse. Elena. I dig my nails into his back, so he groans as she enters the room.

“Ragnor?” his name drips from her lips like honey floating on a winter breeze. “What are you doing?”

Ragnor freezes between my legs. His dick twitches. I grind my hips against him, and he shoves me away. Zipping up his pants, he turns around. I can see the sweat glistening on his forearms.

“Elena, it’s not what it looks like. You were so tired, still recovering, I didn’t want to press you for…” He trails off. She is sobbing. She’s not angry, or shouting, or running away. She’s just standing there sobbing. Her small body trembling.

When Ragnor runs to her and folds her into his arms, she lets him comfort her and lead her from the room.

No wonder he grew to hate humans. No wonder she died giving birth to that wretched half-breed child of theirs; she is so weak. The walking epitome of what I despise about humanity.

I pull my skirt back down and hop from the desk.

I could call Andre and make him finish what Ragnor started, but it is nearly sunset. The ritual will begin in a few short hours, so perhaps it is fitting I should wait for my king.

A violent shudder rocks my entire body. At first, I think it’s the F.H.B. making my heart swell in my chest. Then my eyes snap to the window. Someone has breached my spell.

14

MACK

“Are you sure she is willing to do this?” I ask, pacing as Kayla disappears into the trees up ahead.

It is almost sunset. The sky is a strange, violent pink splashed with orange. There are no clouds, and the air is unusually cold.

“She was telling the truth,” Tanner says.

“Wolves are good at masking their thoughts,” I reply. “Nico—” I stop and look furtively at Sam. At the mention of his brother’s name, he closes his eyes and looks away. I tilt my head and lower my voice, but it needs to be said. “Nico hid his true identity from us.”

“And I still knew he wasn’t to be trusted,” Tanner says. “I might not have known why but I knew he was hiding something.” He folds his arms and pushes his shoulders back. “I’m right about her, Mack. She hates Ragnor and Eve as much as we do. She wants to do this. She wants to avenge her son.”

“I believe her, too,” Sam says. “She hates us, but she hates Ragnor and Eve more.”

“She was Ragnor’s fated mate,” Kole says darkly. “Will she be able to overcome that bond when the moment arises?”

“Maybe not,” Sam says. “But she doesn’t have to kill him herself. We’ve asked her to go after Eve—she’s who we need to take down, so we can get into The Hollow and tackle Ragnor.”

Luther is strangely quiet. His jaw twitches as he looks up at the sky. “Like fire,” he mutters. “It looks like fire.”

I follow his gaze. He’s right; the orange coloring in the sky slashes across it in thin strips that look like flames. Perhaps it’s a sign. The thought sends a wave of warmth through my muscles, but I try not to go any further down the rabbit hole. We cannot let ourselves believe it’s a sign. If we believe Nova’s return is imminent, we will let our guard down and mistakes could be made.

“Focus,” I say gruffly. “How long since she left?”