His voice is gravel and warning. I lean back, watching. Because if Lila keeps this up, none of us are making it through this game intact.

Chapter thirty-six

Tyler

The second I pull the card, I know something's about to snap. Everything feels sharper now—like the space between us is electrically charged. Lila’s scent lingers in the room, soft and warm and maddening, layered over the want that’s been simmering beneath the surface all night. My brothers aren’t immune to it. Neither am I.

I try to ignore how Corwyn’s leg bounces once, how Rhys leans forward just a little. Both of them are on edge. We all are. Lila’s playing with us—deliberate, teasing, brilliant. She’s lit a fire and we’re just waiting to see who’ll get burned first.

And gods help me, I want to be the one who flames out.

I draw my card slow, letting the moment stretch. I hold it between two fingers like it’s something fragile and dangerous, and maybe it is. “Truth,” I say, my eyes locked on Lila. “Would you ever consider joining a pack?”

The words come out heavier than I meant. Too honest. Too pointed.

Her smile falters. Just barely.

Corwyn tilts his head toward her, his brows rising with interest. Rhys, quiet as ever, is still but alert. No one's laughing now. We're all leaning in.

Her gaze flicks between us—three alphas staring at her like she’s the center of the universe. Maybe she is. And I swear, for a heartbeat, she looks vulnerable. Like she’s been stripped bare by the question, even though she’s still fully dressed.

I regret it. Instantly.

She blinks once, then straightens. That teasing glint returns to her eyes, a mask sliding back into place.

“I think,” she says lightly, reaching into her pocket, “I’ll cash this one in now.”

The kiss card.

It’s like being sucker punched in the chest. My heart lurches. I sit straighter, pulse thudding hard. I brace myself, thinking maybe—maybe—

But she turns. Not to me.

To Rhys.

I barely register my own laugh. It’s sharp and jagged, slicing the air. “Damn.”

She climbs into his lap like she belongs there.

Rhys doesn’t hesitate. He wraps an arm around her waist, strong and sure, steady like always. She places her hands on his chest and leans in. There’s no pause. No warning. The kiss is deep. Confident. Wet. Open-mouthed and shameless.

It wrecks me.

I can’t look away. Her fingers curl slightly in his shirt. His other hand settles on her hip, possessive. Their bodies mold together like puzzle pieces that were always meant to fit.

I’m hard before I can stop it, my cock pressing uncomfortably against my waistband. I adjust discreetly, jaw clenched so tight it hurts.

Gods, I wanted that kiss.

But what kills me more? I wanted it from her. Not just her mouth. I wanted her choice. Heryes. She gives it to Rhys.

And, somehow, I love her more for it.

Because that kiss? That’s her answer. Her way of telling me she’s not scared of packs. That she’s open, even if she’s not ready to say it aloud. That she’s willing to risk it, a little at a time. With us.

My breath comes shallow, rough. I try to smile. It wavers.

Corwyn, who looks as undone as I’ve ever seen him, lets out a low whistle. “Well. That escalated.”