No. She would not turn her back on him. If he were simply a man asking for a sexual favor, bent would do the trick as well as any other. But if she was in a vulnerable position, she’d have no way of knowing if he was bending her to enter or to break her skin with the weapon he held. Floggings ripped at the flesh and broke the ribs and backs and spines of their victims if the wielder refused to stop.

The only way to get out of check was by interposing a piece between the threat and the king. Death awaited one of them at this match’s conclusion. She moved her queen.

Nox spread her legs farther. She bit her lip as she ran her hand up her thigh, purring her words. “Warm me up first, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

He glimmered as he said, “You’ll eat those words.”

“I can’t wait.”

He flashed his teeth in a snarl, agitated by her seductive taunt as he advanced on her.

Yes.

She’d done it. She’d made the most aggressive countermove, and it had paid off.

Nox had only a moment to seal her victory. She licked her palm, wetting herself as she enticed him forward. He stepped toward her, taking himself out of his pants. It was not with lust that he advanced but with the cruel monstrous need to dominate, to silence, to exert power and control and force. The moment he moved for her, she locked her legs around him, unwilling to let him leave. These were the moments that separated life from death for both of them, for terribly different reasons. This was not the passionate embrace of lovers. He had no intention of kissing her, but as he jammed himself inside of her, she smashed her mouth onto his and sucked.

Nox had known she’d won well before the captain realized he’d lost.

He’d continued with the full force of presumed domination for a breath before his eyes widened in panic. It took less than a beat for Eramus to begin to fight as she drank him in. She felt his fear within a single heartbeat as he appeared to understand on a primal level that he was being devoured. She clamped down harder, engorging herself with the life force of the animal in her grasp. He attempted to claw at her, pulling at her hair, pushing back, fighting with his dying heartbeats to wriggle away, but no strength remained.

“Checkmate,” she panted aloud, anger, triumph, hatred, and relief surging through her as her lips broke free.

The battle was over. His life was forfeit. Nox had won.

With one kernel of life remaining in him, she shoved him off her.