There are two types of hunting.

The proactive kind where someone wields an advantage to overwhelm a target. That advantage can be anything: strength, speed, stealth, or knowledge. It can be something as simple as the difference in reach of the fighters’ chosen weapons or something random as the weather. It can be a difference of wealth, one fighter simply buying better equipment while the other can only afford garbage.

Then there’s the subtle kind. One where the hunter does countless hours of preparation, laying the perfect trap. A trap that, if it’s done well, ensnares the prey before they realize they’re being hunted and is inescapable the moment it’s triggered.

With my wife as my chosen prey for my plot, the proactive method is a terrible choice. That can go wrong in all kinds of ways and I can’t afford that. I have been planning this for months. The details have changed, refined by my experiences and the advice of my conspirators, but the goal remains the same.

To shrink the gap between Kierra and me.

While hunting prey stronger than myself, I have no choice but to employ the subtle approach. It requires cunning, patience, and above all, control.

I struggle to keep my expression neutral as my wife steps into the dining room. I take in the white blouse and leather skirt she’s wearing with interest. “Going out?”

“Mm. Alyssa has agreed to introduce me to a few of the more prominent hunter guilds.”

I frown. That sounds very much like a date. However, the next second, I consciously ease my expression. I’m being ridiculous. This isn’t her pushing my boundaries. She’s going out with a friend. I’m not going to be illogical about this. Besides, when all is done, there will be no one who can compete, no one she can put above me. And that is all I want. All I need, if I’m being honest about my desires, which she wants me to be. I won’t accept anything else.

She chuckles, as if sensing my thoughts. She steps behind me, wrapping her arms around my neck and leaning against me. “Max has been struggling to buy whole corpses, something that has become even harder with her family under suspicion. I am hoping they might sell them to me directly.”

She leans down, breath caressing the tip of my ear. “I haven’t forgotten my promise so soon.”

I grin as she brings up my ‘vengeance’. “Before you go, help me out with something.” I gesture to the brown glass containers on the table in front of me. “I was wondering if you could take a sniff and tell me what you think.”

“Oh? What’s this?”

“Just a little project.” I stiffen my jaw to keep any clue from slipping into my tone. “Go on.”

“Hmm.” She raises the first container and gives it a curious whiff, brows scrunching in confusion. “Dedia…why are you asking me to smell urine?”

A small twitch of the lips escapes despite my iron-will. “Don’t mind the details.” I take the glass from her and hand her the second one. “Go on, go on.”

“I don’t think your appetites are moving in a healthy direction.” Despite her words, she wears a smile as she smells the next glass, her confusion again prominent. “It doesn’t smell like much of anything.”

“Again.”

She takes up the third glass and pushes her nose into it. Staring at her intensely, I see the change in her expression. How her eyes narrow, pupils dilating, and her lips subconsciously part. Most telling of all is how she takes another large sniff, letting out a deep sigh.

I quickly pull the glass away, not wanting her to get any inkling as to my scheme. “So, what did it smell like?”

“Mm? I’m not sure. Familiar. Reminds me of…” She looks to the side, thoughtful.

“I’m going to need a little more than that.”

“It reminds me of expensive furs from home. A bit of the animal’s musk remains along with hints from the potions used to treat them. Sweet sap and bitter roots.”

My eyes twitch as I struggle not to react. “Great. And the last one?”

She sniffed it with a bit of anticipation but that is swiftly dashed, her nose scrunching up in offense. “That one is…strange.”

“Okay, got it.”

“You’re not going to tell me what this is about?”

“Nope.” I swiftly cork the bottles, scooping them up in my arms. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The curious elf stares at me and I meet her gaze without flinching. Instead of tackling me and attempting to torture out the information, as I half expect her to, she blows me a kiss and leaves for her not-a-date. Huh. Maybe she really is starting to take me seriously.

Or maybe it’s time to take it to the next level.