“Now you’re stalling,” he murmured as he prowled closer. “Show me something entertaining, or I’ll fuck your mouth first. While you kneel.”

Her blood heated at the threat of debasing her in such a way. “I did not agree to that.”

“You agreed to a night in my bed, darling, which means you’ll be playing by my rules.” He moved into her personal space. “I’m running out of patience, Caro. You seemed—”

She sliced her blade across his cheek and ducked out of his reach before he could react. It put her back to the exit, giving her the advantage. “What happens when I win?”

He faced her. “When?” He tsked as he drew his thumb over the wound she had created. “When you lose, I’ll fuck you until tomorrow.” He started forward. “In whatever position I want, however I want, wherever I want.”

She bounced on her heels, calculating his next move. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I prefer not to waste time on frivolities,” he murmured as he shifted ever closer. “Try again.”

His hands hung loose at his sides, giving him a false air of ease. Each step contained a lethal restraint and highlighted the predator lurking beneath the skin.

The man exuded danger.

Her pulse hummed with anticipation. Fighting was one of her favorite pastimes, though not many Seraphim enjoyed sparring. Most saw it as unnecessary, but Caro had sensed disaster on the horizon for decades now—a dark whisper in her ear. She hadn’t bothered mentioning it to her High Council, for her young age and inexperience would be ignored.

That didn’t stop her from preparing.

She flipped her knife and lashed out at his abdomen, but he jumped backward with a chuckle. “Better than expected, but not nearly good enough.”

Her eyes narrowed at the insult. She hadn’t been trying to hurt him before, but now she would.

He blocked her first attempt with his forearm, then countered her kick with his thigh. All testing moves on her part to gauge his reaction time, which she begrudgingly admitted to being quite good.

Caro threw one of her knives in an attempt to train Sethios’s focus on catching the lethal item before it embedded in his skull.

She used his temporary distraction to mist behind him and slice his shoulder with her remaining blade. He spun mid-move, caught her wrist and whirled her in a circle to place her back against his chest.

“Not bad,” he murmured, his lips at her ear. She drove her fist back toward his thigh, but he snagged her forearm and stopped the motion with the ease of a man much stronger than her. “Shall we play again, angel?”

Her chest heaved as she stole a necessary breath. He’d bested her far too quickly and without his use of compulsion. “You’ve been properly taught.”

“For much longer than you’ve been alive,” he said softly. “How old are you, Caro?”

No sense in lying to him. “Nearly a century now.”

“So young.” He nibbled her neck as he folded her arms across her stomach. “Your pulse tells me you enjoyed our little quarrel. Tell me, was it the thought of hurting me that excited you so? Or something else?”