‘What will we try next? Can you make me prettier? More like Gianna?’

  ‘Which one? The one does not equal the other,’ the djinn said simply, and dried his shoes on the mat outside her door before he opened it.

  Keira paused on the threshold, stumbling at his words with roses blooming in her cheeks. Did he just imply that she was pretty enough as she was?

  She stopped by her hallway mirror, taking in her complexion as she twirled a lock of light brown hair between her fingers, and a warm flutter started in her chest. Perhaps she would leave her appearance as it was then. It certainly wasn’t the way she looked that had caused such a mess between her and August. But they needed to think of something.

  Sighing, Keira plopped down into a chair while she watched the djinn pick a book from her shelves and settle down on his mattress before her fireplace to read.

  She wanted to ask him questions.

  She wanted to know what his magic could do, beyond filling baths and conjuring coins to pay for ice cream, and she wanted to know more about him. Yet, her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth while looking at him. With his perfect jawline and long lashes, he was like a portrait, keeping her mesmerised as he licked his fingers and turned the pages. Her eyes could not seem to let his movements go.

  ‘Had your fill?’ he murmured, glancing up at her from his book, and her cheeks heated.

  ‘Of what?’ she spluttered. He merely raised a brow in challenge, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. ‘I wasn’t looking at you, if that’s what you think.’ His smile cracked wider. ‘I was merely weighing out options for the next step forward!’

  ‘Sure,’ he hummed, returning to his reading. ‘And what conclusions did you draw from your…rumination?’

  She harrumphed. ‘Nothing. Save for going back in time and fixing my mistake, I’m at a loss.’

  Elijah shut his book with a disgruntled sigh, the amusement gone from his features. ‘Why do you keep calling it your mistake?’

  She blinked. ‘Because I was the one who took him in my mouth. I was the one who was terrible at it.’

  ‘I highly doubt that.’

  ‘How would you know?’

  He raised a brow. ‘Did he look like he didn’t enjoy himself?’

  ‘I–I wouldn’t even know how it’d look like even if he did.’

  ‘Well, now that,’ Elijah said, his voice a caress against her ears, ‘is easy enough to see.’ His mouth pulled at the corner, and with his smile, her mind flashed with images. Images of him licking, devouring, and feasting on a woman’s body. Her sighs. His hooded eyes full of heat. Then the images shifted, and his eyes were closed. His head tilted backwards, his throat exposed, and his lips parting into⁠—

  Keira let out a shivering breath as the images faded, her throat dry, her mind ringing with the echo of a male groan. With his lips tightly pressed together, Elijah leaned back on his mattress and returned to his book. A look of utter amusement and glee danced across his face.

  She could have scowled at him again, but what he had let her see…

  That’s what she wanted.

  It would not matter how she looked, what her station was, or anything else at all, she realised, if only she could make August feel like that. And she could not deny the cry of yearning in her own body, to be a woman capable of making him – to make anyone – be at her mercy like that, either.

  ‘There is nothing left for it then,’ she said and rose from her chair, her determination catching Elijah’s attention.

  ‘What?’ He arched a brow expectantly.

  She sat down beside him. So close she could feel nerves stirring under her skin and goosebumps rippling along her arms.

  ‘You must teach me how to please a man.’

  9

  CHECKMATE

  ‘Between the…scrotum and anus?’ Keira asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s where you’ll find the perineum,’ Elijah replied, moving a chess piece.

  ‘And men like that?’

  His mouth curved wickedly. ‘We sure do.’

  Keira inhaled sharply. ‘What else is there?’

  ‘There are all the regular erotic zones, of course, which you’ll also find on a woman,’ Elijah said, counting on his hand all the places that might pleasure a man. ‘The earlobe, the neck, the nipples…’ He held up one of the wooden chess pawns, letting his thumb run over its rounded head, and her skin tightened. ‘Then there’s the Adonis belt and what follows below. But really, you are asking all the wrong questions.’

  Keira set down a chess piece of her own – it might have been a knight, although she had long since lost track – and raised a brow. ‘Oh, really?’

  Elijah leaned forward, coy interest flickering across his face, cast in light from the fire. Night had once again descended outside while they’d talked and played chess, throwing the living room into heady darkness. She much enjoyed her cottage at day. But at night, with Elijah around, it had become something else entirely.

  ‘The ultimate way to please a man is to learn how to please yourself first.’ He leaned back again after his turn, appearing triumphant about making her face burn worse than the smoky wood in the hearth. ‘Pray, do tell, how experienced are you at touching yourself?’

  Keira’s hand slipped as she set down her next piece, causing several to spin off their places. ‘I don’t believe that’s… proper to ask of a girl,’ Keira spluttered, raptly trying to put all the pieces back in place.

  ‘I don’t believe anything about this conversation – this arrangement – is proper per your social conventions.’

  That was fair, but Keira scowled at him nevertheless as she repeated her move.

  ‘Even so. We’re not discussing that.’

  ‘Then we’ll make no progress until we do,’ he said, and set down his queen, blocking in her king. ‘Checkmate.’ Keira blinked at the pieces while he observed her with a barely concealed grin. ‘The night is still young should you want a more…practical lesson.’

  He had barely said the words before new images rose in her mind, this time of a hand reaching for the spot between her legs, and her body writhing with pleasure. Her back arched as the fingers rubbed a particular spot, the imagery so vivid that she felt a jolt at her core and startled to her feet, fumbling with her skirt and nearly knocking the chessboard off the table. ‘Whatever. If you can’t take this seriously, I’ll be taking my leave,’ she huffed and grumbled. ‘Good night.’

  ‘Make sure to practice while you’re up there,’ Elijah called after her, receiving a snort in return.

  Yet, once in bed, the deafening silence offered no distraction from his advice. Heart pounding, the words repeated themselves in her head until it was all she could think about; the room, the space, and the objects in it—all were tediously bland and out of focus compared to the spot aching below her navel. She shifted, the sheets caressing her sensitive skin.

  She hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she felt embarrassingly inexperienced at even such a simple notion as touching herself. Even if she did and elicited the slightest of pleasures, it was usually by mere coincidence. A coincidence she struggled to replicate. But she couldn’t deny that she wanted to.

  Keira swallowed, her fingers clenching and unclenching at her side. If she just—she shifted and exhaled, then shifted once more, and with the movement, her hand moved underneath the duvet, coming to rest against her chemise between her legs.

  She held her breath as the tips of her fingers trembled over the cotton. Nerves stirred underneath the fabric, and her breath caught further as she pressed down, feeling something pleasant. Soft. And something at her core thudded as much as her heart. Letting her fingers slide a little, she considered the sensations in her body again. Nothing changed. Not for the better, not for the worse. She shifted her hand a little more, feeling… Hesitant. Uncertain. Stupid.

  She toyed with the flesh between her legs, and then… Nothing.

  Impatience. Frustration. She was blocked.

  Groaning, Keira grabbed her duvet and pressed it to her face, muffling her disgruntled grumbles.

  A determined knock at the door made her still and sit up straight. ‘J–just a minute,’ she stuttered, rearranging her duvet and her hair, as if those actions would douse the heat flushing through her body.

  ‘Either you let me in now,’ said the djinn’s gruff voice on the other side, ‘or I’ll break this door down and give you a helping hand.’

  ‘It’s unlocked!’ she blurted out, mortification heating her face from her chin to the roots of her hair. Her bedroom door swung open, yet Elijah didn’t step inside. Instead, he stood perfectly still in the threshold, fists tightened at his sides, strain marred in every feature of his handsome complexion, now back to the dark-haired, tanned version he’d appeared as upon their first meeting.

  ‘Well?’ she quipped, raising her brow expectantly at him. ‘Why are you just standing there? Can I help you with something?’

  ‘The question, I’d say, is whether I can help you?’

  His gaze, the look he sent her—The heat in her face travelled down her spine, pooling between her thighs at the intensity of it.

  ‘It goes against my every instinct,’ he drawled, finally stepping into the room, ‘not to…alleviate you from your struggles and…release you this instant.’

  The heat in her nether regions shot back up top. He’d sensed her. Sensed her trying to…satisfy herself. Sensed her frustration when she failed.

  Slowly, Elijah leaned forward and grabbed the frame of the bed, a devious smile creeping up his face. ‘You know, if you want me to show you, you need only say the word,’ he purred.

  Keira opened her mouth but found herself at a loss for words, thinking of the images she had seen before. The spot between her legs suddenly wet and needy. His gaze deepened with something dark and decadent, and his knuckles whitened further. Inexplicably, it made her toes curl under her duvet and her feminine parts pound even more.

  ‘No,’ Keira breathed. ‘I think I’m good.’

  ‘Thing is, I think you’re right,’ Elijah said, letting go of the metal bedframe to sit on the edge of the mattress. His eyes never left her face. Her lips. ‘I think you’d be very good.’

  Once again, images and sounds filled her mind. Of his hands moving underneath her nightgown. Of her breathy moans as she rode his hand and their writhing bodies entwined with the duvet.

  ‘It wouldn’t be proper,’ she breathed.

  His gaze never left hers. ‘No, we established as much.’

  ‘I would feel awkward with you watching, worried what you’d think of me.’ The heat in her cheeks grew at the thought, but so did the itch to put her hand down there.

  His voice grew thicker. ‘I do not know any real man who wouldn’t…enjoy it. Savour it. Wish it was his hand instead.’

  She swallowed, her mouth entirely dry, as if all the wetness in her body had gone⁠—

  ‘I’ll get you some water,’ Elijah rasped suddenly, clearing his throat before heading downstairs.

  Left in the bed, Keira pulled the duvet a little closer to her chest, her core pounding with her heart as she chastised herself for being so easily influenced.

  This must have been what her nan had tried to warn her about. The seductive powers of the djinn, drawing her in like a moth to a flame.

  She needed to stay level-headed, she thought, and straightened her back. She could not afford Elijah to influence her like this.

  August. She needed to think of August.

  No sooner had she managed to calm herself, however, than Elijah reappeared with a glass of water and a plate of something smelling suspiciously like heaven. To her surprise, she found it was a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

  ‘Here,’ he said, giving her the glass before settling down next to her in the bed with the plate on his lap. ‘They’ll help with the craving.’

  She had half a mind to call him a liar a moment later, when he handed her a cookie and licked his fingers after. Slowly. Deliberately. He could not help himself, could he?

  Catching her stare, he grinned wickedly.

  ‘Just…trying to diffuse the tension,’ he said, eyes twinkling.

  And yet her body felt like a furnace, the craving being more than she could bear.

  She bit into her baked goods, savouring the tastes of salty and sweet. ‘I do not know any real man who wouldn’t…enjoy it. Savour it. Wish it was his hand instead.’ She glanced at him, but he was thoroughly occupied with his own cookie.

  ‘Tell me,’ he started, ‘how did the good people of E’Frion learn about you and August’s…activities?’

  That doused her cravings.

  ‘I told you,’ she grumbled, ‘they saw us through the fisherman’s hut’s window. And they weren’t ambiguous about it before dumping me in the lake.’

  ‘Why there? Why not meet him…somewhere more private?’

  ‘It was supposed to be private. His friends were meant to be out on the hunt.’

  ‘And yet they happened to be outside the window at that time?’

  ‘Yes,’ Keira said, regarding him. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Elijah shrugged and broke his cookie in half. ‘No reason. Quite the coincidence, isn’t it?’

  ‘Perhaps they thought my horse was a stag and went to examine it,’ Keira muttered, although she couldn’t help but wonder…why had they been around? Had they known? No, it had been her and August’s secret. Had they followed them? Whyever would they if they did not know?

  ‘What’s this obsession with the stag anyway?’ Elijah asked, suckling the moist core of the cookie. Keira could not help but stare, her brain struggling for words as she spoke.

  ‘They believe it to be the Tyrant Emperor.’

  There was a flash of something in his eyes, a humourless curl of his lip. ‘People still remember that old myth? It’s a hundred years old.’

  ‘You’d be surprised what we hold onto to make things interesting around here,’ she said. ‘You know of it, then? And him, the Tyrant Emperor? He was a djinn, wasn’t he? Like you?’

  Elijah nodded, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘I knew of him. Was glad of his demise too.’

  So, the emperor was truly gone then. Keira gazed out the window, towards the woods. ‘I wonder, if the myth had been true, would living as a hunted animal all these years have mellowed him?’

  ‘Some leopards don’t change even if their spots do.’

  She turned back to him, voice sharper as she said, ‘Yet, you want to change me?’

  ‘Not change, uncage. Your spots are perfect. Except for your game of chess.’ He said it effortlessly, matter-of-factly, like it didn’t completely throw her off guard.

  Then her mind caught on his final words, and she thought of how Elijah had manoeuvred every single one of her moves, always staying two steps ahead, just like⁠—

  ‘Elijah!’ She clasped his hand.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The game. I know how to win August back now.’

  Elijah’s forehead creased. ‘By losing?’

  ‘No.’ Keira’s smile merely widened. Yes, Elijah had beaten her at their game, but it had also given her an idea. Maybe, just maybe, there was time still for Keira to beat Lady Thornfell at hers. ‘Tomorrow, I’ll capture the stag.’

  10

  HUNTER

  The sun was already high in the sky by the time Keira finished her work and managed to drag Elijah out of bed the next day. He’d been particularly troublesome, complaining about some chess fanatic keeping him up all night.

  ‘And then she suggested we’d go hunting for a mythical stag!’ he exclaimed dramatically as they rode underneath the trees with the sunrays glinting between the leaves. ‘How do you even plan on taking it down?’

  ‘How does any man take down a stag?’ Keira asked, signalling that they would halt in the clearing ahead.

  ‘In the most strenuous ways, I’m sure.’ Elijah yawned, flicking a bit of magic between his fingers. Once more, Keira rolled her eyes, then dismounted and fastened her horse to a tree. ‘How has a lady such as yourself learned to do it?’

  ‘My father taught me,’ Keira said. ‘He used to take me hunting before he passed. Taught me that to hunt, one ought to find a spot far away from the horses, down-wind, where one can wait for the stag to pass.’

  ‘And that’s why we’re stopping here?’ Elijah asked after fastening his own horse and followed her into the woods.

  ‘Precisely.’

  They walked a little further in silence, until they caught the sound of rustling bushes, and Keira held her hand out.

  ‘What? You think it’s here already?’ Elijah mused, so close to her now that she could feel his presence directly behind her. She closed her eyes at the tug it caused in her body, at the fluttering sensation crawling up her skin. ‘Does that mean we’ll get back to the cottage early?’

  She was about to turn and tell him that they’d never catch it if he kept talking, but what stepped out of the bushes wasn’t the stag. Instead, it was a couple Woodland Witches, with Isolde in the lead.

  ‘Keira,’ she said, eyes on Elijah. Subtly, her hand came to rest on the sheathed dagger at her hip. The other witches tensed with their bows. ‘What are you doing here, and with…whom, may I ask?’

  ‘This is Elijah. He’s…’ Keira cleared her throat, her voice turning low. ‘He was the djinn in your lamp.’

  This time, Isolde’s eyes did shift over to Keira, but there was no surprise in them, as if she had already discovered the lamp gone and guessed that Keira had taken it.

  An apology ached at the tip of Keira’s tongue, yet she couldn’t quite get it out past her shame, and she opted for a half-baked excuse instead. ‘He’s helping me capture the stag. So that I can win August back.’

  Isolde’s gaze cut to the djinn again, her voice sharper than the blade at her hip. ‘Is he now?’

  Elijah cocked his head. ‘Don’t worry, my lady; I’ll make sure no harm comes to her.’