She held out her hand. “I accept.”

“Excellent.” Sethios thought she meant to shake on it, but when he pressed his palm to hers, the world morphed into a tunnel of blue feathers. Apparently, that was her version of confirming her compliance.

Except, the little grin she flashed him at the end said she’d done it on purpose. Her own form of payback.

So, that’s how she wanted to play.

Okay.

“This is going to be fun, angel,” he rasped, breathless from their short mist across Paris.

As soon as his head stopped spinning, he’d start a game of his own. One that would end with her begging him to fuck her. He’d start by giving her space, leave her in constant anticipation of him making a move. Then, when she lowered her guard, he’d tease her until she couldn’t take any more, and only then would he give in to her craving.

And he’d enjoy every fucking minute of it.

8

What Now?

Caro slowly ate the sandwich Sethios had procured for her. It tasted fine—good, even—but she’d lost her appetite some time ago.

His words regarding her council’s motives for assigning her this mission kept taunting her. The logic of his assessment could not be ignored.

If someone else had already attempted her task, why send her to repeat it?

Did they wish to provoke a cause for their intervention?

Torturing another Seraphim was strictly prohibited. Her kind considered it even more dire than sharing blood with humans. If her superiors desired a proper reason to annihilate Osiris, then using her as an instigator proved rational. She’d consider the same avenue, except for the part of subjecting herself to unspeakable pain.

Caro shivered as she took another bite.

Perhaps they had no idea of his treatment of the former Seraphim. She wasn’t aware of one being tasked with a similar assignment, though she wouldn’t be privy to the details. Only members of the council maintained that knowledge.

Sethios refilled their wine and eyed her speculatively. He’d been doing that for the last hour without saying a word. Fine by her. If he wanted to stare at her, then she would repay the favor. He’d yet to put on a shirt, even after taking a shower and changing into jeans. And while it served no realistic purpose, she didn’t mind admiring his physique.

It was quite nice. Especially the way he used it when touching her.

Her lips twitched at the forbidden thought. Luxuriating in the pleasures of the flesh was so very human, and yet, it felt invigorating. The way he made her feel—alive—was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

Which meant a tiny part of her had agreed to this madness because of the access to the luxury he provided. She enjoyed it, and he was right about her wanting more.

“Hmm,” he murmured, eyes dancing over her. “Hold that thought. We need to strategize.”

“What thought?” she asked, blinking innocently.