Kaidren tenses. His reaching hand freezes.
I cross my ankles behind his back, drawing him even closer. Breath rushes from his lungs to fan against my mask as his chest slams into mine.
The impact makes my mask slip. The edge rides up, leaving a sliver of my jaw and lower cheek exposed.
Kaidren’s halting breaths heat my bare skin. Panic clogs my throat. If he presses forward, he will touch me, and all of this will be for nothing.
My arms are still trapped, I can’t fix my mask, and I’m clenched all over with the terror that he’s going to make contact.
I refuse to lose like this.
I burrow my neck and head deeper into the snow. The cold is a creeping tendril that slithers down my spine, making my teeth chatter, but it puts a bit of distance between my face and Kaidren’s.
The shock from his expression fades, and his attention shifts back to the blade. His arm stretches toward it again—
No.
I need to roll him over. I need to turn him in the opposite direction so he can’t get hold of a weapon.
Using my thighs to tether myself to him, I drag them down his waist, until they’re coiled around his hips like a belt.
I expect Kaidren to realize what I’m doing and fight back.
He doesn’t. Instead, he stills. His perfect teeth grit together, eyes fluttering. He looks cold, as if he has snow melting down his neck as well. Or as if he’s in pain. Or . . .
Stars in hell.
Only now do I consider our position. We’re both sweaty and flushed. My legs are knotted around him like twine, my chest is flattened beneath him, and our hips are practically welded together.
What I see on his face—feel from his racing pulse—isn’t pain. It’s arousal.
In any other situation, I might be embarrassed. From the way I’ve thrown myself against him, or from the way his body reacts so readily to mine. But there’s no time for shame.
Kaidren has no idea the girl beneath him is me. If the feel of a stranger’s body is enough to melt him into a starheaded fool, I’ll happily use it to my advantage.
I have no experience in seduction, but I artlessly rotate my hips.
Kaidren’s head falls forward.
My jaw is still uncovered, so I jerk my head to the side. His forehead slams into my opposite shoulder with a tortured sound I now know is a muffled groan. “Stars in hell, what are you doing?” His voice is huskier than I’ve ever heard it.
My heartbeat quickens. In truth, I have no idea what I’m doing, but whatever it is appears to be working.
Maybe a little too well. His voice is roughened like this. He sounds tense and out of control. Most days, Kaidren Valeis full of a practiced charm I hate, but in this moment, in the middle of an arena, he’s untamed.
The snow against my back is cold. Everything on this damned mountain turns to ice, but wherever my body touches his is scorched.
I’m scalded from within, as though flames are licking greedily at my insides. I’m horrified by the realization that Ilikethe way he feels against me. He is firm, muscled, and warm.
It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t matter that his body responds to mine, or that my body reacts to his—I despise him. I’m plotting his ruin. And I’m going to win.
The arm banded across my chest has loosened, enough for my fingers to glide down his side.
He shudders. He’s not even fighting back.
I almost can’t believe how easy this is. This is a different kind of control from what I’m used to. Different from the power I’ve been chasing since childhood.Thispower—the kind that comes from unraveling a man with allure I didn’t know I possessed, rather than with secrets and magic—is deliciously addictive.
My trailing hand reaches the knife in my pocket.
