The Play-Toy Of Three Lycan Kings-Chapter 382: In The Caves III

SAGE

The kiss shouldn’t have happened.

That was my first thought—not shock, not anger, but a sharp, clinical recognition that something had gone off-script.

Adam’s mouth was suddenly on mine, warm and insistent, and for a single suspended second my body froze while my mind scrambled to catch up.

My eyes stayed open. I watched his close instead.

There was something almost reverent in the way his lashes brushed his cheeks, the way his brow eased as though this—this—was a relief he hadn’t known he was holding his breath for.

The cave’s low light caught on the sharp lines of his face, softened them, made him look dangerously human.

Then his lips moved.

Slow. Certain. Like he already knew the shape of my mouth.

The breath left me in a quiet, traitorous sound.

No. Absolutely not.

Except my body disagreed.

Heat unfurled low in my belly, startling in its speed, and when his tongue brushed my lower lip, coaxing, my resolve slipped just enough for a moan to escape me. Soft. Embarrassingly honest.

My eyes fluttered shut. That was the moment it became a problem.

I should have pulled away. I should have shoved him back, reminded him—and myself—that this was a game, a manipulation, a carefully constructed lie that would end with blood and ruin.

Instead, I opened my mouth. I let him in.

The kiss deepened, turned hungry, the kind of kiss that demanded participation. His hand tightened at my waist, anchoring me, and the world narrowed to sensation—the press of his body, the faint scent of smoke and pine, the low hum of magic that responded as if this were inevitable.

My thoughts blurred, edges softening, but I forced them back into alignment with sheer will.

This is part of the plan. The words steadied me.

Enjoy him. Use him. Let him fall so deeply that when the truth comes—when the blade finally drops—it will destroy him.

That was the point, wasn’t it?

With that reassurance, I slid my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, deliberately deepening the kiss. If he wanted this, I would give it to him. Fully. Convincingly.

I kissed him like I meant it.

The sound that left his throat was low, unguarded, and it sent a thrill through me that I refused to name. I told myself it was power. Control. The satisfaction of watching someone unravel exactly the way you intended.

We might have stayed like that longer—too long—if the priest hadn’t cleared his throat. Loudly.

"Ahem."

The sound cut through the haze like cold water.

Adam stilled first, his breath uneven as he pulled back just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark, unfocused, like he was struggling to remember where he was.

I smiled. Slow and sweet. "Well," I said lightly, turning toward the priest, "that’s one way to announce yourself."

The priest’s weathered face broke into a laugh, deep and unbothered. "Sacred ground," he reminded us, not unkindly. "Try not to scandalize the goddess herself."

"Perish the thought," I replied dryly.

He waved a hand, still smiling. "Take it somewhere else, then. The cave has seen enough history for one night."

Adam muttered something under his breath—something that sounded suspiciously like an apology—and took my hand, guiding me toward the exit.

As we walked out, I frowned inwardly.

The priest hadn’t objected. Not really. No warning about boundaries. No concern over a lycan king kissing a witch beneath the goddess’ carvings.

That alone should have unsettled me more than it did.

Isn’t he worried? I wondered. About the union? About what it might mean?

The thought lingered only briefly before I dismissed it. None of them would be alive in the coming weeks anyway. Let them believe whatever fantasy made them comfortable.

The night greeted us as we stepped outside—cool, open, washed in moonlight. I opened my mouth to ask where Adam was taking me, but he didn’t give me the chance.

He kissed me again.

Right there, beneath the moon, where the silver light traced his shoulders and caught in his hair, turning him into something almost mythic.

His hands framed my face this time, thumbs brushing my cheekbones with an intimacy that made my breath stutter despite myself.

Damn it.

The kiss was slower now, devastating in its restraint. It left me lightheaded, my thoughts scattering like startled birds, and when he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin.

"Damn," he murmured.

I felt it more than heard it.

Another curse followed, softer. "You’re killing me."

I almost laughed.

Inside, I sneered. Good.

Outwardly, I smiled again, letting a hint of warmth through. I stepped back, breaking the contact before he could pull me under again.

"Careful, Your Majesty," I teased. "You’re going to start sounding unkingly."

He huffed a breath that might have been a laugh, might have been frustration. His eyes tracked me like he was memorizing the way I stood, the tilt of my head, the bare skin of my shoulders.

I toned myself down deliberately then. Just enough softness to make him think he was getting somewhere. Just enough openness to keep him chasing.

And he did. But not where I expected.

Instead of turning toward the royal quarters, Adam led me back through the gates, along the familiar path to the contestants’ compound. To my porch.

I slowed, genuinely surprised this time.

"You’re leaving tomorrow," he said, as if that explained everything.

"Yes," I replied cautiously.

He stopped at the steps, facing me. "You’ll be moving into the new abode?"

I nodded. "That was the plan."

His jaw tightened, just slightly. "Good. I’ll visit."

The certainty in his voice made my brows lift. "Will you?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached for me again, pulling me back into his arms and kissing me like he was afraid this might be the last chance he’d get.

I let the kiss happen—brief, intense—and then slipped from his grasp before it could deepen. My head was hazy, my body humming in ways I didn’t care to examine too closely.

"Good night, Adam," I said, already turning toward the door.

I didn’t look back.

Inside, I leaned against the closed door, exhaling slowly as the echoes of him lingered—his mouth, his heat, the dangerous pull I would not acknowledge.

This was just a step. Nothing more.

And when I finally made my move, when the truth came crashing down, he would understand exactly what it felt like to be kissed and then destroyed.