Garrett stood in his war room, back to Agnes, staring out the window. His jaw was tight. His hands were fists at his sides.
He turned.
She’d unlaced her dress, letting it pool at her feet. She stood before him in nothing but a thin silk slip, the fabric clinging to every curve. Her chin was lifted. Defiant. Unapologetic.
Classic Agnes.
"Put your clothes back on," he said. His voice was steady. His body was not.
"No."
"Agnes."
"Garrett." She stepped closer, and he could smell her now. Honeysuckle and something darker underneath. "You’ve been fighting this since the moment you felt me. I felt it too. The way your whole body went still. The way you looked at me like you wanted to devour me and destroy me in the same breath."
"I didn’t unlace fourteen hooks for you to waste my effort."
"I should destroy you." He didn’t move. Didn’t trust himself to. "Do you have any idea what you did? You drugged Dexmon and violated him. You poisoned a girl that I see as family. As a sister. You poisoned her multiple times. And because of your lies, she almost had her throat slit and you nearly started a war."
"I know what I did."
"Do you? Do you actually understand, or do you just not care?"
Agnes stopped an arm’s length away from him. Close enough to touch. She didn’t.
"I understand that I wanted something and I went after it. I understand that I didn’t care who I hurt to get it." Her eyes met his, unflinching. "And I understand that the thing I wanted isn’t the thing I want anymore."
"How convenient."
"It’s not convenient. It’s inconvenient as hell." She stepped closer again, and now he could feel the heat of her body through the thin silk. "You’re honorable and noble and good, and I’m none of those things. You should break this matebond. You should send me away and never think about me again."
"You deserve someone boring and decent and terrible in bed." Her mouth curved.
His hands were still fists. His wolf was howling.
"Then why are you doing this?"
"Because I don’t want you to." Her hand came up, pressing flat against his chest. He felt the touch like a brand through his shirt. "Because my wolf has been screaming at me since the moment I saw you. Because I am selfish and cruel and fully aware of both, but I want you anyway."
"That’s not a reason to keep you."
"No." Her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. "But this is."
She pulled him down and kissed him.
He should have stopped her. Should have grabbed her wrists and pushed her away and called for a mage to make a portal to Drakenfell where he’d send her back to face her trial.
But her mouth was soft and demanding, and she tasted like sin, and his wolf surged forward with a snarl that vibrated through his entire body.
He grabbed her hips and yanked her against him, hard. She gasped into his mouth.
"You want this?" His voice came out low. Dangerous. Not entirely his own. "You want me to keep you?"
"Yes."
"And you think you deserve to be my mate?" His grip tightened, fingers digging into her flesh.
"No." Her breath was ragged. "But I want to be anyway."
Was he really about to do this? With her? The woman who had faked a pregnancy and poisoned Serena. The one who listed her crimes alphabetically during an apology?
Yes. Apparently he was.
He spun her around and bent her over the edge of the table, one hand on the back of her neck, pressing her face into wood.
His wolf was howling. His conscience was screaming. And his cock was making the executive decision.
"This isn’t going to be gentle," he warned.
"I don’t want gentle." She shifted against the table and winced. "Though this wood grain is offensive. You couldn’t have a nicer table?"
"You’re criticizing my furniture right now?"
"I’m giving you a renovation note. Continue."
He ripped the silk slip up over her hips, baring her ass to the cold air. No undergarments. Of course not. She’d planned this.
His palm cracked against her flesh, hard enough to leave a mark. She cried out, but she didn’t pull away. She arched into it.
"That’s for the horrid things you said about Elara and Serena." Another slap, harder. "That’s for claiming you were carrying Dexmon’s child and almost starting a war." Another. "That’s for making me want you when I fucking shouldn’t."
"Technically, the pregnancy claim was misdirection, not a lie," Agnes corrected, breathless. "There’s a legal distinction."
"I don’t care about the legal distinction, Agnes."
Agnes looked back over her shoulder at him. "Is that all you’ve got, or should I list more of my crimes?" Her hips pushed back toward him. "Garrett."
"You don’t get to say my name yet." He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. "You don’t get to say anything until I decide you’ve earned it."
Agnes spoke, grinning. "Fine. But you love the way I say it."
He yanked his pants down, freeing his cock. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life, aching, throbbing.
He pressed against her entrance. She was soaking wet, dripping for him.
"Tell me you understand," he growled in her ear. "Tell me you understand what you did. Tell me you understand why this is a punishment."
"I understand." Her voice was wrecked. "I understand. Please, Garrett, please..."
He slammed into her.
She screamed, her back arching, her walls clenching around him. He didn’t give her time to adjust. He pulled out and thrust back in, setting a brutal pace that had the giant table creaking.
"You’re mine now." His hand was still in her hair, pulling her head back as he pounded into her. "Do you understand that? You don’t get to run. You don’t get to scheme. You don’t get to hurt anyone ever again."
"Yes, yes, I understand, I’m yours, yes..."
He spanked her again, mid-thrust, and she shattered around him with a scream. He felt her orgasm through the matebond, crashing into him like a wave, and he growled through it, refusing to let himself follow.
Not yet. He wasn’t done with her yet.
He pulled out, flipped her onto her back, and she had the audacity to look annoyed about the transition.
"I was comfortable."
"You were bent over a war room table."
"And?"
He drove into her again. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper.
She heard Agnes’s confessions. She knew Dex wasn’t at fault. Yet the image of him and Agnes burned in her mind, seared into her like a brand she couldn’t scrub away. There were still consequences, even if it wasn’t his fault or in his control.
Her heart, her mind, and her intuition were all at war.
Gods, her fierce mother would know how to handle this. She never let herself think about her mother, but after the conversation with Nightspire, her thoughts kept going places they hadn’t gone in six years.
She didn’t realize how turbulent her emotions had become until Fin’s voice broke her out of her spiral.
"Hey... Serena, it’s okay." His whisper was soft against her temple, followed by a gentle kiss. His arms tightened around her
"Breaking a matebond messes with your head. There’s nothing wrong with you," he added, as if he could read her mind.
Serena rolled onto her back to look at him. She was only aware a tear had fallen from her eye when he wiped it away and kissed her softly.
"What were you thinking about?" He propped himself up on his elbow, watching her with those steady eyes.
"My mother... She was close to Nightspire..." Serena’s gaze drifted to the ceiling.
"Believe it or not," she added, voice dry as dust.
Fin started laughing, unfiltered which made her start laughing too.
"Do you trust Nightspire?" he asked once they’d settled.
She considered the question for a moment. "Partially. But there’s always an end game with him."
"Garrett told me what Nightspire said to you about Frostborne." His voice softened. "Serena, it wasn’t your fault."
He pressed his forehead against hers, then kissed her again, gentle. "I need you to know that."
Serena didn’t know what to say. He was disarmingly good at comforting her when she didn’t know she needed it. She took the hand cupping her face and interlaced her fingers with his.
He pulled away enough to look her in the eyes. "When I walked in yesterday, what were you two talking about?" There was no judgment in his tone, only curiosity.
"He offered me a source for who sold Viper’s Kiss to Meredith," Serena answered.
"I only caught the tail end." Fin’s tone was measured, the kind of calm that preceded storms. "Tell me I misheard him say concubine."
Serena swallowed. "No, you didn’t mishear."
"Why did he mention that?" Fin asked, with a slight edge to his tone.
Serena took a steadying breath, hesitating.
He lifted their joined hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I promise. I’m just trying to understand."
"If Orosia is invading Skardos... I wanted to know if he thought we could work out some kind of deal. To stop it." She paused. "He said I’d most likely be killed. Or made a concubine."
Fin went very still.
"Serena. You are not the reason they’re invading. There’s a dozen reasons and none of them are you."
His face darkened. "I would burn all of Orosia to the ground if they took you."
Serena’s heart twisted at that thought. The truth was, she would turn herself over to the enemy if it meant sparing the continent of Skardos. Her life wasn’t worth more than every person in Skardos combined. She knew it.
Before that thought could spiral, Fin was on top of her kissing her lips. So quickly she didn’t know what hit her. She laughed into his mouth, and he pulled back just enough to look at her, mock-offended before he started laughing too.
And then his mouth was on hers again, warm and unhurried, and she let herself sink into it.

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