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A twisted smirk tugs my mouth. “Ah, but you’re tempted. I see it in your eyes. The city stifles you, Zareth wants your mind, Vaelith half-claims your body, the council views you as a tool. My path is at least direct: tear Orthani down from within. You’d get freedom for Ai and yourself.”

Her breath catches, the raw edge of longing flaring. “And what if I say yes? We tear it down, then what? You turn on me the moment it suits your plan?”

I trace a step around her, letting the tension swirl as we circle like predators. “Maybe,” I admit, voice soft. “But maybe we keep each other alive long enough to secure what we want. That’s all any alliance in Orthani is—an arrangement until it collapses.”

She’s silent, dagger still within reach on the desk, but no longer brandished.

The hush pulses with dangerous attraction.

I recall the orchard night, how her body felt near mine, the static in the air.

My mouth runs dry. “Take your time to think,” I say, “but not too long. The next major supply run leaves soon. If you help me sabotage it, we can strike a blow at Orthani’s war effort. ”

She arches a brow. “Sabotage their supplies, risking a crackdown that might cost innocent lives?”

I shrug. “Orthani thrives on war. You know that. If we hamper their supplies, we weaken their next campaign. Or do you prefer letting them march your kind into slavery?”

Her eyes flash with old grief. “Damn you,” she repeats, but the anger feels more directed at her predicament than at me. She steps back, a swirl of tension in every line of her body. “Fine. I’ll consider your sabotage plan. But I want details first. No more half-truths.”

A surge of relief floods me. “Agreed. We can meet again in two days. I’ll bring specifics on the supply run route and schedule.

You can slip me intelligence from Orthani’s war councils, confirm the guard rosters.

We coordinate. Once we succeed, maybe you’ll see the Red Purna isn’t your only path, that I can be a better ally than a coven that discards you. ”

She lifts her chin, something akin to a dark amusement glimmering. “You might be the lesser devil, Eryx. Or maybe just a devil I happen to tolerate.”

My pulse drums faster. Her barbed acceptance feels like a victory, albeit precarious. My gaze flickers down her frame, the tension humming with a different sort of hunger. “That’s enough for now. After we disrupt Orthani’s supply lines, you’ll see if our synergy can do more.”

She exhales, wrapping her arms around herself. “Stop tempting me with sweet words of synergy. This is a deal of convenience. Don’t confuse it with loyalty or trust.”

I let out humorless chuckle. “I never confuse anything with trust in Orthani. But we can share something stronger than trust—mutual interest. And if sparks fly along the way…” I trail off, stepping closer. The warmth of her body in the confines of this small suite engulfs me.

Her eyes narrow, though color rises in her cheeks. “Careful, or you’ll end up broken by the very sparks you stoke.”

I tilt my head, a smirk forming. “And you think you’re not dancing on that edge, too?” My voice lowers, recalling how she pinned me with her gaze last time we parted, that swirl of tension claiming every breath.

Her dagger hand tenses, but she doesn’t raise it.

We stand mere inches apart, the lamp’s flicker casting half our faces in shadow.

My heart roars in my ears. Part of me wants to pull her into a punishing kiss, see if her lips taste as fierce as her words.

Another part warns me to keep distance, that she might lash out.

Her chest rises and falls with ragged intensity.

She breaks the moment by shifting aside. “I’ve had enough men thinking they can entangle me with seductive words,” she mutters, voice trembling with conflicting emotions. “Vaelith tries to rule me, Zareth tries to own my mind, you want to harness my power. Maybe I’ll break all three of you first.”

My blood ignites at her defiance. “Then be sure you do it quickly,” I say, “because I’ll not hold back if you betray me.”

She shoots me a look that practically crackles. “Likewise.”

Silence hums, thick with unresolved tension. Finally, she tears her gaze away, brushing a stray lock from her face. She’s so vividly alive, it steals my breath. “Get out,” she orders, though her voice carries no malice. “If Vaelith’s guards find you in my room, we’ll both pay for it.”

I swallow, acknowledging the truth. “I’ll be watching from the rooftops. In two days, I’ll find you again for the sabotage details. Be prepared.”

She nods, not trusting words. My chest clenches with a raw longing to linger, but I respect the precarious line we walk. Turning, I move to the door, pressing my ear to it for signs of passing guards. All’s quiet. I slip out, shutting it softly behind me.

The corridor stands empty. My plan to cause a minor distraction earlier must still hold the guard’s attention.

I retrace my steps, each footfall quiet.

Only once I slip back out to the orchard’s gloom do I exhale fully.

My muscles tremble from the tension of that confrontation—and the hush of attraction that threatened to spark into something uncontrollable.

She hasn’t outright refused me. That’s the best I could hope for.

I cross the orchard, weaving behind hedges to avoid potential watchers.

A twinge of chaos magic ripples in my core, fueling my stealth.

Within minutes, I’m over the outer fence, dropping into a side street that leads away from Vaelith’s estate.

My pulse remains elevated, mind replaying Selene’s words: “Maybe I’ll break all three of you first.” The notion twists me with anticipation.

She’s no meek conspirator. She’s a force.

Once I reach the quieter districts of Orthani, I make for a cramped safehouse above a disused wine shop.

Climbing the rickety stairs to the second floor, I secure the door behind me.

The single lamp I left burns low, illuminating my sparse furniture.

An empty table, a battered chest containing stolen supplies, a narrow bedroll in the corner.

I toss my cloak aside, sinking onto the bedroll, running a hand over my eyes.

My head swirls with new complications. The Red Purna wants war, but their methods are reckless.

I plan to exploit them. Vaelith stands as Orthani’s enforcer, but something in him cracks whenever Selene’s involved.

Zareth wants to mind-bind her, and she nearly turned him into a quivering mess.

Each day, the city tightens around us. Our secrets form a fragile web.

Her question about the Red Purna’s betrayal lingers.

I never told her the entire truth—that they specifically targeted her because of her rumored potential, that they wanted a reason to draw out Orthani’s might for a final confrontation.

If she knew the depth of that manipulation, perhaps she’d burn them all.

Maybe she’s leaning toward that anyway. Once we sabotage Orthani’s supply run, I might feed her more morsels of truth, guiding her rage where I want it.

That’s all this alliance is, right? A means to dismantle the council. Or do I want something more with her?

A low curse escapes my lips. My craving for her is as undeniable as my thirst for revenge.

The orchard scene flickers in my mind, how her glare mixes with that flicker of attraction.

I can’t let these feelings overshadow my mission.

She’s cunning, armed with a formidable will.

She might turn on me the moment it suits her.

Yet I feel alive each time we cross paths.

My vengeance once felt like a solitary march, but with Selene, it’s an electrifying waltz.

If I handle it right, we’ll cut Orthani’s throat and free Ai, forging a victory that resonates far beyond the city’s walls.

Unless she betrays me first—or I push her too hard, and she chooses Vaelith or escapes alone.

I can’t read her entirely yet. That’s the thrill.

I rub my temples, forcibly turning my thoughts to practical steps.

The supply run is in three days. I need the exact schedule, the guard assignments, perhaps even a wagon blueprint to sabotage.

If Selene can glean that from Vaelith’s war councils, we can strike precisely.

I already have the Red Purna’s resources to stage an ambush near the outskirts.

With chaos magic, I can disrupt the wards guarding the caravan.

Then we claim or destroy the supplies, dealing a harsh blow to Orthani’s next offensive.

Let them feel the cracks. Let them tremble.

At last, exhaustion pulls at me. I douse the lamp, lying back on the bedroll, eyes open in the darkness.

Selene’s image flashes behind my eyelids: her defiant scowl, how her voice pitched low with challenge, how her body tensed when I advanced.

My blood warms, an ache growing inside me.

If we stand side by side, forging sabotage in Orthani’s core, we might feed on each other’s boldness.

But trust? It’s a fragile notion. Ai’s cryptic warnings, rumors of Zareth’s next moves, Vaelith’s possessive watch…

everything teeters. My best route forward is to keep her tethered to me by mutual necessity, letting her see that I can offer more than the Red Purna’s betrayal or Vaelith’s half-benevolence.

And if that tether leads us to an inevitable collision of lust and danger, so be it.

I let out a shaky breath. Sleep eludes me, though I close my eyes.

My mind conjures a swirl of chaotic dreams—Orthani’s council wreathed in flames, Selene at my side, blade glinting, her body pressed too close for sanity.

Then, in the next flicker, I see betrayal in her eyes.

I wake with a jerk, cursing the uncertainty.

Outside, the city hums with faint night sounds—drunken laughter, distant patrols.

The darkness in my safehouse is absolute.

I cradle the knowledge that in two days, I’ll meet her again.

We’ll finalize sabotage details, and maybe that meeting will bring us one step closer to toppling the council or devouring each other.

My lips twitch at the thought, hunger stirring in my veins.

I vow not to let Vaelith or Zareth claim her undivided loyalty.

She’s too fiery to be caged, and I want to watch Orthani burn alongside her fearless grin.

At last, I settle into a fitful doze, chaos swirling in my veins.

Tomorrow, I’ll gather infiltration supplies from the Red Purna’s caches.

I’ll keep an eye on the wagons, track which route they plan to use.

If Selene delivers the final piece of intelligence from inside Vaelith’s war room, we can strike a perfect blow.

And maybe, in the aftermath, she’ll see that my path is the only real chance to free Ai and tear down the city that twisted our fates.

We’ll use each other until the last wall crumbles.

I can’t deny a thrill at the notion that mutual attraction simmers under all that cunning, that we might devour each other in the process.

Orthani has no idea how violently we plan to tear its tapestry of cruelty.

Eventually, the night wears on, and I slip deeper into unsettled sleep, mind dancing with images of Selene’s fierce stare.

One day soon, she’ll embrace the chaos with me or cut me down.

Either outcome feels more alive than the stagnant revenge I nursed alone.

I’ll gamble on her forging an alliance—fueled by desperation, tempered by desire.

Let the rest of Orthani tremble, because when we come for them, we’ll do so with savage grace.