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His cock was already at half-mast when he entered the tent. After a week of staying away, he thought he’d proven to himself he could school his reactions around her, yet the first moment he spoke to her, he forgot all about keeping his distance and challenged her to more touching.

Of course, he would spend more time with her at some point, to continue his work of getting her to beg for him, but he wanted some time to make sure he could do it exactly according to his plan. He was the fiercest warrior and the best tactician in Anatolia. Perhaps his challenge for tonight had been hasty, but he could still control the outcome. He could defeat an Omega half his size.

She stood in the center of the tent. She must have bathed. Her hair was loose down her back, and her skin lacked the peppery scent of smoke. He strode to the side of his bed and bent to one of the cartons next to it. Pulling out his book of Sappho’s poetry, he twisted and tossed it on the blankets.

“These are the rules.” He pointed at the book. “You pick one poem to read. You can read fast or slow, but if you stop, I win.” He could already picture her voice shaking as she fought not to give in to him. His cock fully hardened.

She walked to the bed and picked up the book. “All right.”

He crossed his arms. “You will lie on my bed holding the book. Naked. Your legs will be open. If you move, other than shaking or trembling, I win.”

Her mouth dropped open and her face flamed red. “No way.”

His cock throbbed. Naked and spread on his bed was exactly how he wanted her. While she lay on his bed, he could study her, learn every small touch that made her tremble. Find the places to make her lose.

He sucked in a deep breath. His desire for her was simply because he was an Alpha, and she was an Omega who hadn’t responded to him the way he wanted yet. Like a battle, he would conquer inch by inch, small move after small move, until he won. This was pure Alpha instinct. No Myrdinian lore about mates was at play. This was nothing more than the base, primal need between Alphas and Omegas, one he should have indulged ages ago.

“If I ask you a question or speak to you, you may stop reading to answer.” He crossed his arms. “But if you say the wrong word, or skip a line, I win. However,” he raised a brow, “I’ll be generous and allow you three errors before I win.”

She shook her head. “This is madness.” She eyed the book. “Besides, how would you know if I make a mistake?”

“I know every poem in there by heart.”

Her mouth fell open. “You do? Why?” Her face took on a bewildered expression. “You expect me to believe you read poetry?”

He shrugged. “I don’t care what you believe. I’m simply telling you I’ll know if you speak the verse wrong.”

She stared up at him strangely, her lips slightly parted as if offering them up for a kiss. A long silence spread between them. “When did you start reading poetry?”

“My father read poetry to us as children.”

An expression flashed across her face too quickly for him to decipher. “Your?—”

He growled, cutting her off. “Yes, that’s right, Myrdinian farmers can enjoy poetry. You Sardi barely wanted us to learn to read anything more than the labels on the seed bags, but we educated ourselves and did it thoroughly.”

Her gaze fell to the ground. “That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

After a long pause, he said, “Tell me what you were going to say.”

She remained staring at the ground. “I was surprised about your father spending time with you. In Sarda, Alpha males don’t raise the children, or want to spend time with them.”

Lodan studied her. “There are many things the Sardi do wrong.” Another long, awkward silence filled the tent. “You never saw your father?”

She shrugged. “He didn’t like looking at me because I look like my mother.” She toyed with the ends of her hair. “Other than my hair. I have his hair.”

“Why would he care that you favored your mother?”

“He married my mother later in life, after his first wife, the mother of the current king, died. By all accounts, he really loved my mother, and when she died in childbirth, he blamed me.”

She and King Harl were half-blood.

He hadn’t known that, although he knew there must be at least a ten-year age gap between her and her brother. A twitching scraped between his shoulder blades, and he rolled his shoulders, trying to get it to stop. She was upset, and he could sense it. She may be his Omega, but she wasn’t his mate to soothe. Opening a conversation with her was a mistake, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

She jerked her chin and shook herself. “Why are we talking about this? There is no need to know each other better.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Except, he still wanted to run a hand down her back and caress her until he was certain she was no longer sad, because she was sad. Somehow, he knew that. They weren’t bonded, and he shouldn’t know that for certain, but he did. “Let’s return to our little wager.”

Her gaze hardened. “I have my own rules.”

“This isn’t a negotiation.” He waved his hand. “But go on.”

“Rule number one, I keep my pants on.”

“Nope. Naked.”

She pointed at the bed. “I’m not going to lie there and let you touch me wherever you want.”

He let a half-purr, half-growl rumble from his chest, the sound that made her eyelids heavy and her breath quicken. “Every time I’ve touched you, you’ve enjoyed it. Do you remember riding my hand the first night? Imagine what it would have felt like if you hadn’t been wearing clothes.”

Two spots formed in her cheeks, a deeper flush amid her already crimson face. “I was tired. It was only a silly Omega reaction.”

“Will that be your excuse when you’re distracted and lose tonight?”

Her lips tightened. “That’s not going to happen. I’m going to win.” She straightened, meeting his gaze. “No touching in any intimate places.”

“I told you, this isn’t a negotiation.”

She lifted her chin. “If I reached down and cupped you, squeezed your—” she gulped “—squeezed your knot, you’d lose your mind. If you really think you distract me, then you play fair. No intimate places.”

For a moment, his throat was too dry for him to answer. All he could picture was her hand gripping him. Milking him. He would have her do that. Soon.

He bet he could get her to want him to touch her intimately regardless. “Fine. Naked, and no touching between your legs. Everywhere else is fair game.”

She licked her lips. “Fine. I’ll agree to that.” She pointed at the tent door. “When I win, you let me walk free.”

He sighed. “I expected no less. Very unoriginal. But since you’ve added rules, I’m adding something I want when I win.” He closed the distance between them. “You will tell me exactly how much I distract you. You’ll describe it to me.”

She huffed. “That’s easy. Not at all.”

“We’re ready to start then?”

A line formed between her brows, and she worried at her lower lip for a moment. Then she squared her shoulders and held the book to her chest. “I’m ready.”