Chapter 32 · The Bait's Gambit

"You’re actually asking me to walk into a slaughterhouse and pretend I’m the main course," I said, leaning back against the cold metal of the table. I let a sharp, jagged laugh escape. "Kael, your definition of a 'strategic risk' is basically just suicide with extra steps."

Kael didn't blink. He was standing too close, his presence filling the small room like a physical weight. He reached out, his thumb grazing the line of my jaw—not a caress, but a claim. He pinned my gaze with that suffocating, golden-boy intensity that made me want to either scream or bite him.

"It's not suicide if you're the one holding the detonator, Nova," he whispered. His voice was low, vibrating in the scant inch between us. "And we both know you love the feeling of a knife at your throat. It’s the only time you feel alive, isn’t it?"

I jerked my face away from his touch, but I didn't move back. I couldn't. The wall was behind me, and Kael was the only thing in my orbit. "I love winning, you arrogant prick. There's a difference."

"Then win this," he said.