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If he was armed, he hid it well. My eyes swept him head to toe and found nothing.

Viktor scoffed, but smiled knowingly at Atreus, who simply said, “Told you.”

The alleged fate weaver folded one arm beneath the elbow holding his drink and gave me an unabashed once-over. I returned the favor, schooling my expression.

He arched one golden brow. “This is the great usurper?”

“Careful,” I breathed before Cujo could snarl behind me. “I bite,” I said, flashing a smile that was all canines before taking a slow sip of my martini.

He smirked at Atreus before scanning me again, his gaze lingering on my chest a beat longer than he probably intended. This dress was so form-fitting it bordered on suffocation, but damn if I didn’t feel fine as hell in it. The slit up the leg was my addition—mobility mattered—but the built-in push-up bra did wonders, delivering the requested cleavage for the occasion. Apparently Atreus hadn’t been kidding. When Viktor’s eyes returned to mine, heat burned in them.

“I bet you do,” he said, voice low, raspy with promise—and for the love of fuck, it felt nice to be wanted by someone.

Two someones. Yikes.

“Watch yourself,” I said with a smile, “you’ll give a girl a bad impression.”

My power reached out, winding around Atreus’ shadows and elements until I found something… other. Viktor’s gifts were warm, like the summer day, but edged with something sharp. I’d felt a signature like that only once before.

I canted my head, swirling my drink until it kissed dangerously close to the rim. Smiled like the Cheshire cat. “What hierarchy do you hail from?”

“Don’t know,” Viktor said, mirroring my expression.

I laughed despite myself. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Exactly what I said, Your Majesty.”

Narrowing my eyes, I pressed, “How is that possible?”

“Grew up in a mortal orphanage, I fear.”

I grimaced even as my brain shifted into gear. “No one has ever accused me of having tact.”

He huffed a sound that bordered on a laugh. “You’re fine. It’s not rude to wonder where someone came from. I’d ask you the same thing.”

“Grayshell.”

He exchanged a knowing smile with Atreus, and heat bloomed in my cheeks. “That explains the stance.”

I glanced down. My feet had naturally fallen into a defensive posture. I laughed. “Nervous habit.”

“No need to be nervous around friends—or, I suppose, future family, in a manner of speaking.”

“That has yet to be determined.”

“And yet here you are, looking like that. My brother doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Brother…”

“We might as well be,” Atreus cut in. “Vik found his way to Hawthorne House a decade ago.”

I shifted on my feet, trying to look relaxed while I tracked my sentinels along the balcony. My nerves prickled, but the mental chatter gave no sign of trouble.

Clearing my throat, I said, “I hear you have some rather unusual gifts, Vik.”

“You could say that.”

“Have you mastered them?”