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After agonizing minutes, he finally slips up. I pounce and capture three of his stones fast.

He leans back with a rueful chuckle at my win. “Well played. Seems you’ll take this round.”

I bite my cheek to keep from grinning, still flushed with victory, but tallying the remaining pieces wipes the smile away. We’re only two stones apart. Hardly a decisive victory.

Draven notes my expression and laughs. The rich sound washes over me in irritating waves. “Come now. Revel a bit longer in your oh-so-narrow win.”

“It is victory nonetheless,” I retort, yet the hollow words only deepen my annoyance. I should have bested this pompous vampire by a wider margin.

“Indeed, but such a close call suggests I am a quick study of your little game,” Draven points out, insufferable smugness returning. “Perhaps a rematch is in order?”

I bristle at the challenge in his words. Does he think I will back down?

Squaring my shoulders, I begin gathering the scattered pieces with more force than necessary. “Oh yes, we shall play again, and this time, I will be sure to win by a more significant lead.”

My pride will accept no less.

Draven’s eyes gleam, seeming to relish provoking my competitiveness.

We reset the board silently. As much as his arrogance grates on me, I cannot deny a small thrill at the chance to test my wits against him once more.

This time, I make the opening move. Draven counters quickly, but I anticipate him. Within three turns, I capture one of his stones.

He lifts a brow. “You are playing more ruthlessly this round, I see.”

I offer a thin smile. “I am simply demonstrating the full potential of my own strategy now that you have grasped the basics.” Unable to resist taunting him in turn, I add airily, “Of course, if you require more time to familiarize yourself with the rules, we could take a break.”

Draven snorts. “That won’t be necessary.” His eyes flash with steely determination.

Game on.

The real battle kicks off then. We play quickly, neither willing to give ground as we maneuver our armies of stones across the painted grid.

I gain a slight edge with aggressive offense, but Draven refuses to yield, always finding creative ways to dodge capture and put my pieces in vulnerable spots.

Our hands keep colliding as we move our stones, eyes locked challengingly across the table. My pulse races with exhilaration at this test of wits. For now at least, vampire and half-witch are total equals, too focused on strategic victory to care about petty divisions.

The endgame approaches, both our forces badly battered. I’m only one stone ahead of Draven now, not the advantage I’d envisioned.

Sitting back, I realize I’ve revealed too much of my own skill here, usually reserved for solo play. What will I tell Draven when he remarks on my talent? That it was a childhood hobby in the remote village where I grew up? There we kids scratched grids in the dirt, using rocks or seed pods as markers…

My spiraling thoughts are cut off by a clack as Draven makes his last move. I stare at the board, stunned. Somehow, between mental math and racing pulse, I missed his path to nab one final crucial piece.

We’re left with a single stone each, perfectly tied.

For several tense seconds, neither of us speaks. The crackling fire seems muted beyond our locked gaze.

Draven straightens first, exhaling slowly. “A draw then. How very interesting.”

My cheeks burn, half embarrassed about losing focus, half ticked he forced such a close match. I should say something scathing, resentful.

But meeting Draven’s quirked brow and dancing eyes, I’m surprised to feel my mouth twitching upward. The sincere joy of a challenging game wells up, melting away defensive irritation. When was the last time I matched wits so equally with someone? It was… invigorating.

“Well played.” I nod in acknowledgement. “Seems we’re evenly matched in this arena.”

Draven’s grin widens, softening his sharp features into something more roguish and warm. “Indeed. I haven’t enjoyed such stimulating sport in many years.” He extends his hand across the table.

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, I clasp it in mine. A tingle runs up my arm and floods my body instantly, leaving my head feeling as if it’s drunk.