Korac pinned Sagan to the rug. Her pupils dilated, and her thighs parted beneath his weight. Her scent, fresh and sweet, perfumed the air. Watermelon…

No.

Korac stood and backed away. Here, in Sagan’s dreams, he glimpsed thoughts on the surface of her subconscious. Desires she’d dare not say aloud, but which haunted Korac throughout his days.

Make him laugh.

Kiss him.

Let him be your first.

It was a torrent of hormones and emotions which impeded on Korac’s mission. Despite himself, he may yet win the wager against Nox.

Sagan spun her legs until she was on her feet, facing him again. She’d learned that move within the first month of their nights together, but she’d honed the muscles and reflexes to pull it off fluidly in the years since. Sagan was strong and agile, formidable. But also funny and full of hope. A little goofy, even.

Korac enjoyed their nights together, except…

Tell him how you feel.

How were they supposed to get any work done when every touch exhilarated her? And fuck Korac if he dared claim any detachment. The young woman was gorgeous, fun, and flexible. But above all…

“Step back and give me a butterfly kick.”

Sagan obeyed Korac’s commands like an obedient submissive, which only further aroused him. In her skimpier and skimpier pajamas, he tried not to admire her toned legs flexing through the movements of the kick. The way her bare abs bunched. And with the little flip in the middle, her breasts bounced—

Korac needed a fan to put out the flames between them or risk the fire consuming the sparring couple completely.

Breathless from the exertion, Sagan looked to him for approval, her violet eyes sparkling with confidence.

Elden help him. Korac loved the way she looked at him.

Sagan gave two thumbs up, asking, “Was that good?” She was so dorky. It should’ve killed his libido, but it only made it worse.

The Silver General, famous for inflicting pain with elegant splendor, was utterly infatuated with a girl from Earth. Korac smirked, saying, “You’re doing well.” He squared off against her.

Sagan raised her fists in a self-assured stance. “Am I doing well enough to kick Nox’s ass?” she asked and threw the first punch.

Korac blocked and evaded the left jab. When she fell back into a flip and almost uppercut him with a kick, his chest swelled with pride. Sagan was coming along nicely.

Now for some subterfuge. “You know, nothing about this war is straightforward? No opponent is ever truly your enemy.”

Sagan landed with a split and caught Korac’s stomping foot. She pushed with all her might, throwing him off balance. He fell to the floor. There, Sagan grappled her thighs around his neck in a headlock, squeezing.

While Korac considered the irony of this position, she said, “I don’t see the Icari as my enemy, but Nox has his sights set on Rayne. She’s scared of her ancestor’s significance, and I think it’s taking a toll.”

Intriguing.

Korac slipped his hands between Sagan’s mostly bare thighs and spread them open despite her best efforts to hold the lock. Her freckled nose scrunched cutely with the effort. Once free, Korac locked his legs around Sagan while gripping her toned bicep and pulling her arm back at a painful angle. “What sort of toll?”

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Sagan would not give up, even prone and gasping in agony. Centimeter by centimeter, she rolled onto her side. This put more pressure on her shoulder joint, but it also loosened her legs from Korac’s grip.

Resourceful.

He could break Sagan’s arm like a twig, but nurturing her confidence was vital to his mission. Instead, Korac let her rise to her knees, noting her ass looked nice in those tiny silk shorts—

A headbutt was always an interesting choice.

After pulling that little stunt, Sagan cried out, “Ow!”

Korac laughed as she fell back, rubbing her head. She mumbled another, “Ouch.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the aforementioned goofiness he found so endearing. Korac said, “Let that be a lesson to you. Only reserve a headbutt as an absolute last resort. Are you all right?”

Sagan pouted, and it was adorable. “I’m fine. But about Rayne… She’s not eating, and that’s not good because she works out constantly on the training course. Her thighs are thicker than my head. I’m worried about her mood swings lately, too. She was always so vibrant, and now she’s monochrome. Literally. She only dresses in black and white these days.” Concern for her friend looked beautiful on Sagan. She glanced away as if confiding something momentous. “I think it’s getting to her. She only talks about the invasion—tactics and scenarios. The rest of us are doing extracurricular stuff or…” She met Korac’s eyes before saying, “Dating.”

Nox’s strategy was proving fruitful. Rayne was degenerating. This news would please Korac’s King, but the ruse was starting to chafe. Two years of undercover work grated on Korac’s nerves.

Diverting the subject from her crush on him, Korac said, “You told me once you wanted to date Rayne.”

Sagan sighed. “Yeah, but her head is miles away on Cinder. I think, for her, the invasion has already begun.”

If they only knew…

Korac stood and held out his hand. “That’s too bad. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

The cute way she blushed would occur to Korac throughout the day. There was no getting around it. This wager was won, surely.

When Sagan stood, they were close again. Her subconscious betrayed her interest in Korac more so than her scent.

It was becoming more difficult to say goodbye at the end of the night. He gave a bow of his head. “Tomorrow, Sagan.”

She smiled sweetly. “Good night, Korac.”

The dream ended, and he awakened in his chair beside the unlit fireplace. Korac left his quarters to knock on Nox’s door.

“Enter, General.” Nox always knew when it was Korac knocking.

What the General found on the other side of the door unnerved him. The King of Cinder was searching a windowsill. It was still dark out, so no risk of sun exposure, but the impulse was an unhealthy strain of paranoia Korac had hoped to avoid.

“Sire?”

Nox muttered to himself, “There’s nothing there.” He faced Korac, saying, “Tighten security on the Progeny. I want you to monitor them. I sense…” He didn’t finish the sentence because he didn’t need to.

Korac nodded. “Yes, your majesty.” He changed the subject. “I’m here to report on your progress with Celindria’s descendant.”

Graceful even with his mountainous build, Nox draped himself over a chair, one leg hanging over the armrest languid as a cat. An enormous cat. He peered at his signet ring on his middle finger, saying, “Go on.” The ring’s emblem of the Pretiosum Cruor reflected the firelight—a sign of things to come.

“She’s restless and exerting herself without desire to replenish the energy. Sagan also reported depreciation in mood and other symptoms of a depressive episode. In her words, you’re ‘getting to’ the girl.”

Nox tilted his head as if conceding a point. “Dying every night would have such an effect. We would know, wouldn’t we, General?”

Korac wondered if Nox had forgotten the wager or was blowing it off for an unknown reason. Or was this his approach? Wear Celindria’s descendant down and conquer her? Korac almost shuddered. That wasn’t for him, but it was exactly what Celindria deserved.

Nox was still staring at his ring as he said, “There’s a strength in the young woman’s vulnerability.”

Was that admiration in the King’s tone?

Korac ignored his initial response to raise both brows, and instead, treaded carefully. “I suppose there would be, your majesty. According to Sagan’s accounts, there’s much in common between Celindria’s descendant and Cinder’s greatest traitor.”

That didn’t go over very well.

With a brooding frown, Nox bound to his feet and crossed his expansive quarters in two strides. At his desk, he rapped his considerable knuckles on an open dossier. “We’ll need to leave before too long for the pre-invasion tour of the continental compounds. See that the fortress in Egypt is prepared for Phase II. And…” He glanced down at his ring. “Send in Colita. I’m in need of her services.”

The blood whoring viper always appreciated being ‘needed.’

“Yes, sire.”

Korac made to leave when Nox called, “Begin the surveillance tonight. I don’t care which Progeny you start with.”

“Do you not wish to go yourself, your majesty?”

Nox’s eyes flashed on the verge of Atramentous as he said, “It’s not time.”

Yes. This close to the invasion, they were all on the verge of losing control.

“Of course, your majesty.”

Korac left to fetch Colita, excited for his evening plans. Sagan had taken up running track, and tonight was her first meet. How fortuitous.