“And yet none of them is here breaking bread with your people.” I glance around the tent and raise an eyebrow.
“They’re not welcome,” he confirms.
“All the riches in the kingdom aren’t worth the price of your freedom,” I say.
“No.” He smooths the arm of his patchwork velvet jacket. “And still, they take that from me.”
“Can we talk?”
He nods slowly, then gestures toward the exit. I follow him down a row to an impressive wagon, but he stops me before I can enter.
“Aren’t you afraid of being alone with a man in his wagon?” he asks. “I might try to take advantage of you. If your mate knew, he’d likely melt down into a swirl of shadows.”
I laugh. “Have I ever told you the story of how I posed as a blood whore to take down a vampire queen?”
He jolts, his eyes narrowing as if he’s waiting for the punch line.
“Here’s the CliffsNotes. Oh hell, you don’t have thosehere, do you? Here’s the short summary—they all ended up bowing down to me or meeting the business end of my blade, as will you if you try anything. And as for Damien, he knows I’m here. Besides, you won him over the last time he visited you. He thinks of you as a friend now. Poor schmuck.”
“Is that true?” His eyes narrow.
“The friend part? Absolutely. I don’t know what went down between you two, but he’s turned into one of your biggest fans. Honestly weird for me.”
“No. That you were a blood whore?” Jaqual seems completely disgusted by the idea.
I nod. “I used to be human. Um, that’s like the witches here. People fed off me for money.”
He curls his lip. “How did you become a shade?”
“Faced the goddess in the Darklands.”
Our eyes lock and hold. The amulet around his neck winks at me. He knows I’m not lying.
“Nevertheless, we will stay outside the wagon,” he states clearly. “Unmarried men and women do not inhabit the same wagon.”
“Never?” I ask. I remember Maggie saying it wasn’t done, but a meeting is far different from an overnight.
“Never,” he says with a quirk of a brow. “So, what did you come all this way to talk to me about? If it’s about my men, I think Damien and I said all there is to say.”
“You said you’d lend us the men in exchange for me, and that he could have me back once there was a fair election to determine the next leader of Stygarde.”
He folds his arms. “That’s right. And I also told him, I don’t trust him to keephis word. It’s a moot point. Damien suggested you can’t stay with me because they’ll need you to fight. You can’t comply—therefore, my men remain off the table.”
“What if I could guarantee that all parties would be held to our agreement?”
He rocks back on his heels. “How?”
“Magically.” I lift my chin another inch. “I can cast a spell binding myself to you until the promise is fulfilled.”
He studies me for a few long seconds. “What does that mean, specifically? You’d give me power over you?”
I sigh. “Not exactly. Damien and I promise to hold an election within ninety days of the end of winning the war. If we don’t do that, it triggers the spell, and you can call me to your side. I will be forced to serve your will until Damien relents. If he breaks his promise, you get me.”
“You’d do that? Does he know?”
“He knows. He’s agreed to this plan because he has no interest in breaking his promise to you. He will hold the election if you agree to help us.”
The eye in his amulet winks, and I can see hunger in Jaqual’s eyes like a fish ready to snatch the bait. He wants this election and believes that it will be him sitting on the throne when all is said and done. I can’t guarantee he won’t be. It’s a possible future that both Damien and I have to be willing to face. The prophecy says that the one who tames the dragon will rule. Logically, that would be Damien, because, as my mate, he has tamed my heart. But prophecies are vague and slippery. This agreement could be seen as a sort of taming of me.
