Viktor's boots echoed against the ancient wooden stairs, each step creaking like bones settling after death.

Dust motes danced in the flickering candlelight that lined the corridor—too many candles, strategically placed, creating pools of warm amber light that guided them upward.

Behind him, the purple chain clinked softly as Kaida stumbled, her red eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Wait," she hissed, jerking the chain taut. Viktor's wrist yanked backward, nearly making him lose his balance on the worn stairs.

"What now?" His tail swished with barely contained irritation as he turned.

Kaida's gaze swept the hallway—the candles, the pristine arrangement despite the manor's general decay, the way they led like breadcrumbs toward a specific destination. Her battle-honed instincts screamed trap.

"Doesn't you find it suspicious?" Her voice dropped lower, more cautious. "All these candles... leading us somewhere specific. And upstairs, at this hour?"

Viktor's eyebrow raised. "Your point?"

"Maybe they were sleeping," Kaida pressed, her scarred face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and genuine concern. "We could disturb them. Helena and Mira—they worked all day. It's late. We should let them rest."

Viktor paused mid-step.

His dark eyes studied her for a long moment, reading the genuine worry beneath her suspicious tone. She was actually concerned about his wives getting proper sleep. Despite everything—the chain, the cave, the entire clusterfuck of a day—she still had that protective streak.

'Interesting.'

He turned fully toward her, and something in his expression made Kaida's breath catch. A slow smile spread across his face—not the usual perverted smirk, but something softer. Understanding.

Kaida felt relief flood through her chest. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly. "So you finally understand."

Viktor chuckled. Low. Deep. The sound vibrated through the narrow stairwell.

His hands moved to his shirt.

Kaida's relief evaporated instantly as she watched his fingers work the buttons. One. Two. Three.

"What..." Her voice came out strangled. "What are you doing, you idiot?"

The shirt fell open, revealing his soft torso—still carrying extra weight but showing hints of developing muscle beneath. His tail swayed behind him as he pulled the fabric free from his shoulders, letting it hang loose around his elbows.

Viktor's eyes met hers. Dark. Intent. "Shut up."

Before Kaida could process the command, he moved.

Fast.

His body pressed her backward against the wall—not violently, but with undeniable purpose. The chain rattled as their wrists were forced together, trapped between their bodies.

His free hand braced against the stone beside her head, caging her in.

"V-Viktor—!"

Her back hit cold stone. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs, but what stole her remaining air was the heat of his body pressing against hers.

Every point of contact burned.

His chest—soft but solid—crushed against her breasts, still barely contained in the damp top that clung to every curve.

She felt his heartbeat through the thin fabric, strong and steady, contrasting with her own erratic rhythm.

Kaida's eyes trembled, pupils dilating as her brain scrambled to catch up with reality. Her face flushed crimson, the color spreading down her neck to her exposed shoulders.

Viktor leaned in closer. His breath ghosted across her lips—warm, carrying the faint taste of herbs from their earlier meal.

His dark eyes held her captive, and she couldn't look away even as her instincts screamed at her to push him off.

"You've been quite wiggling since earlier," Viktor murmured, his voice dropping to something dangerous. Something that made her stomach clench with heat she refused to acknowledge. "It seems you're not as naive as you seem, Kaida."

The words slapped her across the face harder than any physical blow.

'He knew.'

He'd noticed every time she'd shifted uncomfortably. Every glance she'd stolen when she thought he wasn't looking. Every moment her body had betrayed her with inappropriate reactions to his touch, his proximity, his goddamn existence.

Kaida's mouth twitched, caught between fury and mortification. Her hands clenched into fists—one trapped by the chain, the other pressed flat against his chest in a futile attempt to maintain some distance.

"Are you trying to use my own—"

Before she could finish, Viktor stepped back.

Just like that.

The heat vanished. The pressure disappeared. Her body swayed forward slightly, suddenly missing the support of the wall and his frame.

He turned away, running a hand through his hair with casual indifference. "To be honest, you're not my type."

Kaida blinked.

"What?"

Viktor glanced back over his shoulder, his expression completely serious. "I'm more interested in my wives. You are not arousing enough."

Silence.

Complete, suffocating silence.

Kaida's mouth twitched. Then again. Her eye followed.

The words processed slowly, each syllable landing like a physical blow.

'Not arousing enough.'

'Not his type.'

'Not—'

An arrow pierced her heart. Metaphorically, but it might as well have been real for how much it fucking hurt.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

This... this less-chubby nobleman... this perverted bastard who'd groped her, sucked her nipple, pressed her against walls, made her body react in ways she'd never experienced... was now telling her she wasn't sexy enough?

After molesting her so many times in that cave? After every inappropriate touch, every heated moment, every accidental-but-not-really incident that had left her flustered and confused?

'HE'S SAYING I'M NOT HOT ENOUGH?!'

Viktor was already walking away, his shirt still hanging loose around his shoulders. His tail swished lazily behind him as he headed up the stairs, completely unbothered by the emotional carnage he'd just left in his wake.

The chain yanked taut.

Kaida stumbled forward, her brain still stuck in a loop trying to process the insult. Her feet moved automatically, following his lead because the alternative was being dragged, but her mind... her mind was screaming.

'Not arousing.'

'NOT AROUSING.'

'I'M A KNIGHT. I'VE TRAINED MY BODY FOR YEARS. I'VE GOT MUSCLE AND CURVES AND—'

'Not. His. Type.'

Her mouth twitched again as another metaphorical arrow lodged itself in her chest. This one went deeper, hitting something she didn't want to acknowledge—pride, maybe, or vanity, or that stupid part of her that had started to wonder what it would be like if he actually—

'NO.'

She shook her head violently, trying to dislodge the thought. But the damage was done.

Viktor reached the top of the stairs and paused at a closed door. Candlelight flickered beneath the gap, warm and inviting. He glanced back at Kaida, who stood three steps below, frozen with a completely blank expression on her face.

Her red eyes stared at nothing. Her mouth hung slightly open. The confident, sharp-tongued warrior from earlier had been replaced by... this. A statue of a woman trying to process critical emotional damage.

"You coming?" Viktor asked, his tone completely neutral.

Kaida's eye twitched.

She stumbled up the remaining steps, her movements mechanical. The chain clinked between them, a constant reminder of their forced connection.

As they reached the door, Viktor's hand moved to the handle.

Kaida's mouth twitched one more time as the words echoed in her skull: 'Not arousing enough.'

'This bastard... this absolute bastard...'

But before she could vocalize her thoughts, Viktor pushed the door open.

And Kaida's brain short-circuited for an entirely different reason.

The room was... decorated.

Candles everywhere. At least two dozen of them, arranged around the space in strategic clusters. They cast warm, dancing light across every surface, creating an atmosphere that screamed romance and intimacy.

'Where... is Mira and Helena?'

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