That response piqued my interest.
Hunter helped me to my feet before pushing me into a cell. He closed the door, and the bars separated us. No longer brothers. Captor and captive.
The bars that were once steel had been replaced, and I shook my head. Copper. The same material that was wrapped around my wrists and neck enclosed me in this space. Hunter was taking no risks. He’d been busy while we ran around trying to gain the favour of the others.
“I don’t want to kill you, Grayson,” Hunter mused, staring at me.
“I can’t say the feeling is mutual.”
He snorted a laugh. “However, there is something I want.”
“What?”
Hunter cocked his head to the side, looking thoughtful. For a few moments, I thought he was bluffing, wracking his brains for an answer, but when he spoke, it wasn’t difficult to see that he had been piecing this plot together for some time.
“I want Quentin.”
“What?”
“I want Quentin,” he repeated.
The anger boiled in the pit in my stomach, and if I had control of my aura now, Hunter wouldn’t have been spared pain. He’d put me behind bars and was telling me hewanted Quentin.
“Let me make it clear to you,” Hunter said, taking a step back and clasping his hands behind his back. “Quentin Scott holds more value than I originally thought. She represents success. It won’t be long before mortals swamp her under the weight of their desires. She already won around most of the Gods. She’s completed my project in record time and I am not stupid enough to believe that was without help from her gift. With someone like her at my side, I tick all the boxes. A demigoddess—check. Liked by the Gods—check. Feisty but still breakable—check and check.”
I pushed my face against the bar. “You stay the fuck away from her, Hunter.”
“But I don’t intend to, Grayson.”
“She wouldn’t look at you twice. She won’t do anything you say.”
“Oh, she will,” he said, a twisted grin stretching across his face. “Because I’m going to offer her something she can’t refuse. I’m going to offer her your life.”