Page 293

“You cannot be serious,” Moros scoffed.

“My people will be handled as I see fit. I will not subject them to that kind of mindfuck. I’ve fought long and hard to be different from our fathers,” Kade said, unflinching.

“I can agree to guidelines, but I will not⁠—”

“A Bond, or no bargain,” Kade cut in coolly as my hands shook so badly I nearly fumbled the vial. “You’ve demonstrated why he should fear you. An ally should be given assurances my people won’t need to. And when the obsidian crown resurfaces, it comes home to me immediately.”

“I cannot grant a gift I do not have. As for my gifts, I will not be extorted into something so foolish,” Moros scoffed. I used the sound to cover the quiet uncorking of the vial. “Can you imagine if I attempted to render you powerless, son of death?”

“A great man is not belittled but rather revealed without his magic.”

“A fool’s sentiment.”

“Then call me a fool,” Kade drawled, unbothered. I could practically feel Moros’ blood boiling as I emptied the vial into the carafes, stashed it in my bra, and poured myself wine with hands I forced steady. “But if I am unfit to rule without death in my quiver, I am unfit to rule at all. So. Persuade me, Moros. Or I will plant my loyalty in the winner’s circle and not care who stands there in the end.”

I turned into the pressure of watching eyes and found Adrastos ignoring the men at the table in favor of tracking me. I lifted the carafe.

Did he know? If he did, he hadn’t stopped⁠—

Relief hit so hard my knees nearly gave when he raised his empty glass. I crossed back on unsteady legs, set my own cup down, and reached for his. As I poured, Adrastos eased his chair back, hands settling on my hips before pulling me into his lap.

My eyes flashed wide. I forced the reaction down.

Not just pet and master.

His siblings believed he was fucking me. Regularly. Apparently, convincingly. Anything but pliant under his touch would contradict the lie.

I could do this.

No, I had to do this.

I set the wine down, gathered our glasses, and handed him one as I settled against his chest. Adrastos hummed approval and leaned back to follow the conversation like most men watched a sporting match.

“This is not going well,” he murmured against the shell of my ear, fingers tracing the length of my thigh.

It wasn’t going well. Not for Moros. The two kings had squared off at the head of the table, arguing strategy.

I couldn’t hear them anymore.

Not over the rush of blood in my ears, loud as the surf. Not over the hard body behind me or the rough hand moving along my exposed leg. I resented the heat flushing my skin as Kade’s eyes flicked to mine, then to Adrastos’ fingers teasing the hem of my dress, then back to my face. A faint line pinched between his brows.

Slowly, Kade’s lilting voice cut through the ringing in my ears. “I grow weary. Either you meet my demands, or I guard the sovereignty of my hierarchy. Regardless, there will come a point when I wield my gifts in this war. My real ones. Not the parlor tricks I’ve allowed the rebels to see. Think carefully about which side you want them weaponized against.”

“Parlor tricks?” Adrastos at last spoke up, but he didn’t slow the steady motion of his hand across my skin. “Is that what we’re calling your little displays?”

“What would you call it?” Kade challenged.

At last, Adrastos’ hand stilled. “Turning your back on your bloodline.”

“Explain yourself,” Moros ordered.

“Gladly,” Adrastos purred, resuming the performance. “How do you think the rebels have been ridding the cities of your crawlers once you leave, brother?” His palm gingerly swept over my hip, then splayed across my belly to tug me back against him.

Moros looked expectantly between them.

“I don’t like filth in my cities,” Kade said unapologetically.

“All cities?” Adrastos pressed.