Chapter 77

"Allow me to demonstrate?" Nathaniel asked, stepping around me with effortless grace. He strode toward the archery set, slinging the quiver over his shoulder with practiced ease. Plucking an arrow from the quiver, he scooped up the bow from the ground and positioned himself before the target, standing just close enough to make it look effortless.

With a fluid motion, he nocked the arrow, drew back the string, and released. The arrow struck dead center in the blink of an eye. I nearly scoffed—anyone could hit a target from that distance. But then he took a deliberate step back, increasing the gap between himself and the mark.

Another arrow flew.

This one split the first clean down the middle.

My breath caught. I'd never seen anything like it.

Nathaniel didn’t stop. He kept retreating, each step widening the impossible distance, yet every arrow he loosed found its mark with terrifying precision, shattering the one before it. By the time he reached the far end of the field, he was little more than a distant silhouette against the horizon. Even Victoria squinted, struggling to make him out.

Then—thwack!

The final arrow didn’t just split its predecessor—it obliterated the target entirely, sending splinters flying as the wooden frame collapsed to the ground. The sheer force of the impact made all of us flinch.

My jaw practically hit the grass.

Nathaniel was already jogging back, his golden curls tousled by the wind, his shirt discarded somewhere along the way, revealing a torso sculpted from years of discipline. He wasn’t even winded when he stopped before us, a smug grin playing on his lips.

"That was insane!" Oliver blurted, bouncing on his toes. "How did you do that?"

"Practice," Nathaniel said, ruffling the boy’s hair. "Lots of it. I could teach you, if you’d like."

Oliver’s eyes lit up. "Yes! Please!"

I crossed my arms, tilting my head as I studied Nathaniel. "Impressive," I admitted, arching a brow. "But you do realize you just destroyed our entire set of arrows?"

He chuckled, pulling his phone from his pocket. With a few taps, he held it to his ear. "Get me a new archery set—top quality," he commanded whoever was on the other end. "Deliver it to my uncle’s villa." A pause. "Immediately."

He hung up without waiting for a response.

"You really do have connections," I mused, watching him carefully.

Nathaniel met my gaze, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "I never pretend to be anything I’m not."

A smirk tugged at my lips. "So, any other talents you’d care to show off?"

Was I flirting with him? The realization startled me. I didn’t flirt—not really. Not since Donovan, and certainly not like this. With Sebastian, my reactions had been raw, instinctive, my wolf responding before my mind could catch up. But with Nathaniel? It was different. Easy. Playful. Like a game where neither of us took the stakes too seriously.

His grin widened. "I do know a few defensive maneuvers."

"By all means," I said, gesturing for him to continue.

Before I could blink, his hand closed around my wrist. In one smooth motion, he spun me around, my back colliding with his chest. The world tilted—then suddenly, I was face-down in the grass, his weight pinning me effortlessly, his legs tangling with mine to keep me immobilized.

My pulse spiked—not with fear, but with something far more dangerous.

Challenge.