Page 142 of The Wolf King

“If you mean to provoke Callum, he’s otherwise engaged.” I put down my beaker and raise an eyebrow. “You’re wasting your time.”

He smiles, dimples puncturing his cheeks. I could almost forget that he is a manipulative snake when he looks at me like that.

“I am not trying to provoke your master, little rabbit.Thatwould be a waste of my time.”

“Whatareyou trying to do, then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

I frown. “Callum is not my master.”

“Prove it.” He glances at his hand, still outstretched. “Dance with me.”

The shadows in the Great Hall seem to gravitate toward him as the candles flicker, as though attracted to whatever darkness resides in his soul.

I laugh and shake my head. “Do you truly think me so easily manipulated?”

He smirks. “Oh, darling, I know exactly how to manipulate you.”

“I’m not dancing with you, am I?”

“No. But you will.”

“What makes you so sure?”

He steps forward, and places both hands on the table on either side of me. I breathe in sharply, inhaling his scent of the forest at night, as he dips his mouth to my ear.

“Because I’m playing a game, little rabbit.” His warm breath tickles my cheek. “And a part of you wants to play too—just to see if you can beat me.”

He turns his face toward mine, a challenge glinting in his eyes.

Then he steps back and I can breathe again.

“Why would I play a game with you when I am at a disadvantage?” I say. “I do not know the rules, nor the prize.”

“No. But don’t you want to find out?”

He holds out his hand.

My mother used to tell me stories about Night—the deity who holds the keys to the Moon Goddess’s prison. He tempts mortals into making deals with him, offering them what they desire in exchange for their souls.

Blake reminds me of him right now. Dangerous and strange with eyes gleaming with dark promises.

And I hate that I am tempted. Because he is right; Idowant to find out what he is scheming.

Yet if I dance with him, what part of my soul will he claim?

He raises an eyebrow.

I raise my chin.

Perhaps the warm, smoky alcohol I have consumed is giving me false confidence, but I do not think that Blake is as smart as he thinks he is.

I place my hand in his.

A slow smile spreads across his face as his fingers curl around mine. He leads me to the dancefloor.

He raises our joined hands, and places his other on my waist.

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