“Let’s think about winning then,” Louis offered with a grin perfectly designed to charm ladies. “And what happens after we win?”
“We celebrate. What else?” Silas said.
“And then what?” Louis pressed. “What if one of us grows too ambitious?”
“Then we kick your vampire ass,” Cade said pleasantly.
“I was speaking of Silas.” Louis nodded toward the wolf king. “Look at those glowing amber eyes—all ambition.”
“Speak for yourself, bloodsucker,” Silas growled. “You try to undermine me at every turn, and you always fail.”
“Call me cynical.” Louis spread his arms in a theatrical gesture. “You took your crown by force. Killian did the same. And since Rowan returned from the fae court, every ounce of him vibrates with violence, especially when anyone gets near Sy. I might follow suit and challenge my sire just so I can stop fearing him. We’re all born killers here. What stops us from turning on each other?”
“Love.” Cade smiled dreamily. “Brotherhood. Our blood bond and vows.”
“All of which can be broken,” Louis countered.
“Then we all go after the first one who breaks them,” Killian called from his training spot.
“How about we survive the apocalypse before planning the betrayals?” I suggested.
“Fair enough,” Rowan conceded. “Shall we continue training? Or perhaps try some hand-to-hand combat for a change.”
“Let the ladies join. It’ll be more fun,” Silas proposed, a mistake he regretted instantly.
It turned out that when you put Barbie and me in a ring with the heirs, certain differences became glaringly apparent. They relied on technique; we played for blood. They pulled their punches; we used claws, teeth, and nails. They fought with honor; our favorite move was a well-aimed knee to the nuts. And we giggled without remorse every time a punch landed true while they bent over.
“What’s wrong?” I asked innocently as Louis limped away, clutching his ribs and calling it quits.
“I’ve never met girls meaner than you two,” the vamp complained, keeping a safe distance. He was used to bride candidates swooning and spoiling him rotten. “You yell, howl, and throw insults nonstop. Mental warfare isn’t supposed to be this literal, ladies.”
“Don’t forget the groin shots they’re so fond of,” Cade added, wincing at the memory.
“It’s called dick hunting,” I clarified.
“It shouldn’t be a sport,” Cade retorted. “It should be banned.”
“You two are the most gorgeous females in the realm,” Silas chimed in, “but you kick the hardest! And you bite.” He held his hands protectively over his junk. “No one needs that kind of stress. Especially not now.”
I blinked with exaggerated confusion. “I think there’s a big misunderstanding here.”
“What happens here stays here,” Barbie added, biting her lip as she eyed the heirs. “Sy and I have reputations to uphold. We can’t have everyone thinking we’re not nice and sweet.”
“Your reputations are already in tatters,” Cade said, though he was laughing. “No one in the realm believes you’re nice and sweet.”
“I’m not quitting,” Rowan declared. “To show you how this is done, I’ll wrestle with Sy. Just Sy.” He gave Barbie a pointed look. “The rest of you can take on Barbie. Be careful. She can be aggressive.”
That was an understatement, but my mate was a gentleman.
Barbie narrowed her eyes, but Rowan was already guiding me onto a mat that Underhill had provided at a moment’s notice. We circled each other, a dance of feints and flirtation, and within minutes it became clear this was less about sparring and more about something else entirely.
Soon, the scent of our arousal hit every supernatural nose in the clearing as we rolled across the mat.
“Fuck,” Silas groaned, his shifter senses the most acute. “This is the most disgusting and disturbing wrestling match I’ve ever watched!”
“It’s gone too far,” Cade called out. “Someone stop them.”
“Agreed!” everyone shouted in unison.
