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“As we all know,” Anya continues, “I am now the head of my estate. It would seem an alliance with the Carrington estate—the first of ours to have fallen—might not be the most prudent use of our resources.”
If Cam’s surprised by the suggestion, it doesn’t show on his face. He’s staring at his feet, his jaw rigid and brow furrowed. A million emotions war in my chest at the implication.
It’s a terrible position to put him in, a choice no one should have to make, made even more complicated by Rea. She might be gone, but marrying someone else, especially someone strictly for duty, wouldn’t mean nothing to him.
And also, selfishly, there’s a spark of relief. For me, for Reid.
And tucked somewhere in a deeper layer of my heart is something else. Something darker and muffled, its cries forcibly being silenced at the thought of watching Cam marry someone.
Someone else.
I shake my head as if I can physically force the thought from my mind.
Auclair catches the movement and shoots me a questioning look. “You disagree?”
My breath catches as Cam turns to me. He searches my face for a moment, his expression giving nothing away. But whatever he’s looking for, he must not find, because he turns back to Auclair with a stiff nod.
“If that’s what it’ll take.”
“Cam,” I all but whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”
A muscle in his jaw jumps, but he doesn’t look at me again. Anya’s expression is just as unreadable. After all that talk ofroyals offering their children up like cattle,here she is doing the same to herself? It’s not a terrible plan by any means, butwhy?
“I’d have a few conditions,” says Cam.
Auclair’s eyebrows shoot up so far they disappear behind the band of his crown. “Go on.”
“You can’t really think we’re getting out of this mess without agreeing to any of their demands. Sending me won’t be an easy fix to smooth things over and let everything get back to normal. If you want me to step in as their new spokesperson, that’s exactly what I’m going to be.”
Auclair slowly leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. “So which of their demands are you suggesting we compromise on?”
“Equal representation in the government, for starters. Seats at the table for different species. A limit to the terms for the monarchs. Not shortening their lives,” he says quickly as Auclair’s mouth opens to protest. “Just their terms. And the blood donations.”
“What about them?”
“They stop.” Cam stands tall even as Auclair’s expression threatens to turn him to stone. “No more forced donations or punishments for humans who don’t give. The program will instead transition to a free market where the blood can be purchased, and those who give are fairly compensated.”
A muscle in Auclair’s jaw ticks, and he all but sneers, “It seems you’ve given this a fair bit of thought.”
And I realize he really had thought Cam would jump into Westcott’s role, calm everyone down, and nothing would have to change. As someone who’s always been at the top of the food chain, compromising clearly is not in his repertoire. And judging by the way his lip curls back, a few altered policies will only be the beginning.
Because even if these changes manage to force the vampires to stop treating the humans like cattle, forcing them to bleed for them and killing them or enslaving them when they don’t, in their minds, they’ll still look at them as animals.
I squeeze my hands into fists at my sides, forcing myself not to say anything, letting Cam handle this. If he’s really going through with this plan, if he’s going to fill Westcott’s shoes, he’ll have to get used to it.
“Those are just to start,” says Cam, spine straight and head held high despite the way Auclair is glowering at him.
And I can’t help it. I smile.
I’d been more than a little doubtful about this plan. Everything seemed too messed up. The system broken beyond repair. That there was no possible end to this that wasn’t ruthless and bloody and unjust.
But for the first time, looking at Cam, I see the potential for something else. Something better.
Auclair refocuses on me. “I can vouch for Camden with the other estates, though I’ve done so in the past, so I’m not sure how far my opinion will go. What do you need from me?”
I should be thrilled Auclair is even entertaining the idea. Our differences aside, we won’t be able to pull this off without some support from the estates.
So then why does it feel like all of the air is getting sucked from the room?
