He watched her head twitch and he knew she knew of whom he spoke, something that wasn’t surprising. Since he began hunting witches, when he sensed this one, he knew she was the one he’d approach—the only one he’d found who was young enough to be malleable and old enough to know what he needed to know.

So he crouched and she pressed deeper into the wall. He could hear her heart thumping hard and fast in her chest.

“A name,” he pushed.

“Scar an immortal?” she asked.

“A hybrid vampire wolf.”

That time, she jerked her head side to side in a sharp negative. “There are no such things.”

“There are. I’ve seen him. Spoken to him. Fought at his side when someone tried to kill him and his mate along with the others who make The Three.”

“You’ve got to be lying.”

Bloody hell.

He threw out an exasperated hand. “Why would I be lying?”

“Because if he exists, The Prophesies actually are coming true.”

Yuri clenched his teeth.

She stared at him. Then she did it harder. Finally, she squinted at him so hard he thought she’d have an aneurysm.

Watching this, it caused Yuri to have the contradicting desire to shake her because she was being aggravating, smile at her because, regardless of how maddening it was, it was still adorable, and kiss her, mostly because it wasn’t just adorable, it was damnably adorable.

Suddenly, her face went slack and she breathed, “Holy crap, The Prophesies are coming true.”

He had no time for this.

“Stop being charming and tell me what you know,” he ordered.

Another blink and a breathed, “Charming?”

He bent closer so his face was in hers. However, she simply stared into his eyes, no longer pressing back.

“You know of the athame I spoke of,” he bit out. “Now, you can choose to tell me who possesses it, or possessed it twenty years ago. Or you can choose to force me to extract that information from you. What you can’t do is take time to make your choice since I don’t have time. So choose now.”

“Extract it from me?”

He shrugged. “Waterboarding, flaying, skinning, tearing your fingernails out by their roots, pulling your teeth out one by one, burning, pressing, choking, or I could feed from you while I play with you, denying you your climax until you tell me what I wish to know,” he shared.

“Climax?”

“Orgasm,” he clipped.

Another blink.

Bloody fucking hell.

“Witch—” he started to warn.

“You didn’t get them all,” she declared, and he pulled back an inch.

“Pardon?”