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“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone on the show in the first place,” Cian said with a sensibility that set Dante’s fangs on edge. “I find it hard to believe you were serious about finding a wife from twenty females desperate enough to share one man.”

He hadn’t been serious. He could admit that to himself. It had seemed like a fun way to waste some time while the bio-med unit worked on the sunscreen project. Dante had been surprised at how joyless dating twenty hot chicks was when there was always a camera around.

“Besides,” Cian was continuing, “it really works better the other way. You only have one dick, man. How are you going to keep that many women happy? It takes two of us to keep Meg happy. If you really want to go down that road, you should find a friend and get a woman between you.”

“I don’t want a ménage,” Dante growled. The last thing he needed was some dude in bed with him. It worked for Beck and Cian because they shared a soul. Dante had never shared anything, and wasn’t about to start now. “I don’t want anything at all, if I’m honest. I just don’t have that choice anymore.”

Cian stopped in the middle of the street, the dust churning under his feet. “What does that mean?”

“It means my father ordered me to get married or else,” Dante admitted harshly.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Dante sighed and began walking again. “He kicked me off the sunscreen project. He told me I can’t get back in until I have a consort at my side. He apparently thinks getting married will make me seem less like an asswipe.”

“You can’t get married just because your dad tells you to,” Cian insisted.

Dante snorted inelegantly. That was the pot calling the kettle black. “I don’t know why not. You were certainly going to, or have you forgotten a frigid filly named Maris? Are you trying to tell me it was your idea to bond with her?”

Before the civil war, Beck and Cian’s father had arranged their bonding with no thought to love. Dante remembered Maris. She’d been a highborn bondmate. She’d also been one of the coldest women he’d ever met. Cian couldn’t stand her. Many nights, Dante had listened to his cousin bemoan his fate.

“That was different,” Cian insisted.

A wave of rising irritation nipped at Dante’s patience. “Sure, cos. It was different because it was your father threatening you and your inheritance at stake. I remember how much you hated that woman, and you would have married her if fate hadn’t stepped in. I’m sure you would have stood up for yourself in the end. You would have told your father and Beck to go hell because you wanted to marry for love.” Dante’s sarcasm flowed through the room.

“That’s not fair, Dante.” Cian frowned.

“None of it is,” Dante shot back.

“And it was different. There was a kingdom at stake. I’m not trying to say I’m better than you. I don’t think that at all. I’m trying to tell you that you have choices. You have more freedom than Beck and I had.”

“Stay out of it, Ci. I’m going to do what I need to do, and that’s that. My father has always complained that I wasn’t willing to do what it takes. Well, I’ll show him.”

Dante hurried along, leaving his cousin with the perfect wife and happy life behind. He didn’t need a lecture from Cian. Cian was happily married. He had his brother to depend on. Dante’s sister treated him like he was still five years old. Come to think of it, everyone treated him like he was a child. He was thirty years old. He ran a business. He ran an arm of the family business. Of course, he had an assistant and a manager who did most of the daily work, but everyone had help. Not everyone was as efficient and organized as his sister. Not everyone wanted each minute of the day planned out to model efficient time management.

What, he asked himself brutally, did Cian expect him to do? Should he tell his father to go straight to the Hell plane and righteously pack his bags? Where would he live? How would he survive? He’d never gone without a day in his life. He liked being rich, and he was good at it.

A long wail split the air around him, and Dante stopped. It was the howl of an animal in pain.

“What the hell was that?” Cian asked with a hitch in his breath.

“I think that’s our guest,” Beck replied.

Beck broke into a run, his long legs eating the distance to the tent. Meg struggled to keep up with him. While Beck ran ahead, Cian took their wife’s hand and hurried her along. Dante jogged, easily catching up and matching Beck’s stride.

There was a crowd outside the large tent, though he noticed they gave the place a wide berth as though what was inside was too terrible for them to get too close to it. It was easy for Dante to fight his way to the front.

All around him, the people and creatures whispered in hushed tones. They talked about the animal in her cage and wondered if the bars were enough to keep her from their children. Savage, one called her. Brutal. Some spoke of her attempting to eat the little gnomes assigned to care for her.

Maybe he would rethink the whole getting-married plan. Maybe Rhys had another, less hostile consort he could buy. He didn’t need to die to prove this point to his father. A nice, homely, uneducated rube would do nicely. He wanted her to shock his father, not cannibalize him.

“Rhys, what’s going on now?” Beck asked.

A small man with a pointy red hat moved toward Beck and Cian, who had taken his place beside his brother. Dante felt Meg at his side, but he was watching the gnome. Rhys of the Gentle Hills, who had served the Finn family for decades, bowed deeply.

“Your Highness,” the gnome said, nodding to each of the Fae royals. “I am sorry to have bothered you, sir. I simply do not know what to do with the lass. She is completely feral. The demon gave us a potion to keep her weak. We’ve given it to her every day, hiding it in the water she drinks, but I fear it doesn’t work. She wouldn’t eat for the first three days she was here until Cara had the idea to give her raw flesh. She is an animal, sire. Though I am loath to do it, I must ask you to put her out of her misery.”

“No,” Meg argued instantly. She rushed to her husbands.

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