Page 57 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“Why would she agree to die for him?”

Lark raises an eyebrow. Oh, okay. So he thinks I can’t notice a bond either. That only pisses me off more.

“You’re going to bond with him, too,” I say.

Lark presses his lips together, exhaling heavily through his nose. “Most likely, yes.”

“Why?”

“He is right in that he appears to be the best option. He is powerful and even if the court merely tolerates him, he knows them better than I do. I do not dislike his idea of change, either. If I am to remain here, it would be better to have something to achieve.”

“You don’t want to stay here. You said that. And he—” I want to throw up. Or scream. Or… I don’t know. I thought I’d feel better once we got Ophelia back, but she’s still as trapped as she was a few hours ago, and now Lark’s trapped too, and what gives these fae the right to do this to our lives?

“Dante…” Lark murmurs. He comes closer and when his hands cup my face, his touch is so gentle that I want to cry. “This is my fault. But I wonder if I made the right decision in not telling you.”

I almost jerk out of his grip, but I don’t want to. “What do you mean?”

“If I had told you, it would have been with a view to keeping you. You cannot stay here.”

“What… What if I want to?”

His thumb strokes my skin, dangerously close to my lower lip. I sway towards him. It’s not even about desire, though I feel that. It’s deeper. Stronger. I’ve been drawn to him since the moment I first set eyes on him, and if I’d just thought to investigate…

“I would keep you as an equal,” Lark says softly, “not as a pet, and even as my soulbond, a pet would be all I could have here. Oisin and I… Our relationship will never be romantic, but it must be close, or the crowns will not fulfil their purpose. I can think of a thousand different scenarios where you stay here, but none end well for us.”

“I don’t want you to stay,” I say. It’s unfair. I know it is. I also know it’s a useless thing to say.

Lark’s eyes flutter shut and he leans in closer until he can press his forehead against mine. I grasp his forearm and hold on tight.

“I do not wish to stay either,” he whispers, and his hot breath teases my lips. “If my life and power were the only things on the line, know that I would return. But you—I cannot hurt you. Not like that.”

It hurts anyway. I don’t say that, if only because I can hear the pain in his voice and fancy I feel the faint echo of it in my heart.

Lark stays in that position for a few seconds longer before he stands straight again. My fingers trail down his forearm and catch his own.

“We can worry about the future later,” I say, and Lark tangles our fingers together before he squeezes my hand.

“That is probably for the best.”

“But I don’t trust him. Oisin. Or your uncle.”

Lark smiles. “Neither do I.”

“Good.”

I let go of his hand before we enter the room again, and none of them say anything as we enter, though Oisin has moved to take the other chair. Ophelia looks at me curiously when I sit next to her. I can’t tell her any of it. Not here. I’m sure she knows a lot of it, anyway. She knows I’ve been into Lark for years. She knows I’ve never made a move because I was too scared, too embarrassed.

“I asked Zomo to prepare a garden party for tomorrow,” Oisin says once he realises neither Lark nor I am about to speak. “We can make the announcement there. Aodhan should not arrive before it begins, but if he gets here and has enough time, he may well step in to challenge you.”

Lark hums. “I very much doubt that,” he says, “but very well. I have met no other fae tonight who I believe would survive the crown, much less ruling. With any luck, you will do better than the rest of them.”

That seems to give Oisin pause, but he nods after a second all the same.

“I’ll stay here tonight,” Ophelia says. “And then we can all go tomorrow?”

She looks at me and Grant, and Grant glares at Oisin, who nods again, but hesitantly.

“Of course,” he replies. “Once the announcement is made, I will break the bond. You will be free to leave.”