Page 121 of Heart of Mischief

“What?” Mason rounded on her. “Charlie, don’t—”

She cut him off, eyes trained on Loki. “Do you accept my pledge or not?”

The god’s surprise lasted only a moment. A flash, gone as quickly as it appeared. His expression settled into its usual indifference as he studied her, weighing her offer.

Charlie couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She could only stare into this man’s eyes—the eyes of a father who did not want her—and will him to accept.

At last—at long, long last—Loki said, “Very well.”

“No!” Mason yelled, and Charlie nearly sobbed with relief.

Loki took two graceful steps over to Elias’s body. Elias had stopped convulsing. His eyes had fallen closed, his body eerily still. Loki held out his right hand, palm facing up. A half second later, a long, thin dagger materialized. He wrapped his fingers around the dagger’s hilt, using it to slice a thin line on his other hand.Bending over, he held his wounded hand over Elias’s gaping mouth and squeezed it into a tight fist. Blood trickled down his palm, landing on Elias’s tongue and lips, staining the foam around his mouth a deep crimson.

For a long, silent moment, nothing happened.

Elias did not move.

Did not breathe.

Did not even twitch a finger.

Charlie’s head started to spin. The walls were closing in on her, the ceiling crumbling to nothing. The entire palace was collapsing, its stones piling over her body, suffocating her.

He’s dead, she realized, breath coming in shallow gasps.We were too late. I lost him, and I bargained away my life in the process.

The words played in her head in a torturous echo:

Too late.

Too late.

Too late.

And then, like a man bursting from the water after nearly drowning, Elias’s eyes and mouth flew open as he gasped in a desperate, glorious breath of air.

40

The relief was almost toomuch.

Charlie fell to her knees on the marble floor, head slumping forward. With a panicked “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Mason grabbed her shoulders, steadying her so that she didn’t fall completely over.

It had hit her all at once: the alcohol, the lack of food, the lack of sleep, the immense energy expended performing magic she’d never even trained to do. She’d been running on pure adrenaline, fueled by the unstoppable force that ignited within her whenever she had a goal to achieve. Now, the goal was finished, along with the adrenaline that came with it.

She was exhausted.

“It’s okay,” Mason said, squatting beside her. “It’s over now. You’re going to be fine.”

Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if he was talking as much to himself as to her. Trying to convince himself that she hadn’t actually done what she did.

But she had. In front of Loki’s entire court, Charlie had pledged to become a mare and serve at the god’s whim. For how long, she had no idea; she hadn’t exactly read the fine print before signing her life away. In all likelihood, Mason would try to find a way to save her from going through with it, but Charlie didn’t have the energy to think about that right then. She had no more schemes, no more tricks or tactics. She was tired.

She was so, so tired.

Elias was safe. Two mare guards had lifted his body up and, after much pestering by Charlie, informed her that they were bringing Elias to his quarters to rest and recuperate. Now, she wanted nothing more than to find the nearest bed and collapse onto it. To sleep for three days straight. Recharge. Then, perhaps, she would be ready to face the fate that she’d chosen for herself.

The universe had other plans.

“You fulfilled your promise to the girl,” came a high-pitched, nasally voice from behind her. “It’s time for her to make good on her end.”