I frown. “Where did you hear that from?”
Other than a few servants who came in and out to deliver food, books, and documents, we’ve been alone all day.
Camden smiles. “Very little goes on in this castle that I don’t know about.” His eyes drop to the leather binder I’m clutching. “I assume that’s whatever you two came up with?”
I nod, holding the folder out to him. “If you want a chance against the vampires in the case that they make themselves some powerful allies, this is your only way.”
Camden accepts the folder, before stepping aside. “Come on in. I’ll pour you a glass of winewhile I go over it.”
I hesitate for a moment because being alone with Camden never goes the way I intend it to. Then, deciding it’s best I’m here when he reads the contents of the folder so I can influence his decision, I nod and follow him inside.
Chapter Thirty-Five
As promised, Camden gets me a glass of white wine before seating himself beside me on the couch in front of the fireplace and flipping open the file. His eyes scan the pages quickly, and as he does so, I can feel his demeanor shift from interested to wary to closed-off entirely. His body language progressively stiffens, and his eyes shutter with distaste the further he reads.
Once he’s done, Camden gives me a look that could have a lesser woman six feet under. “You want me to parlay with a coven of witches?” he asks, his tone biting. “Did my younger brother neglect to mention that they’re fuckinginsane?”
I give him a censuring look. “Careful how you say that, Cam. You’re talking to a witch.”
“You don’t count!” he growls.
Looks like we’re skipping the pleasantries and getting straight to business.
I give a cold laugh, setting my glass on the table in front of us. “In what world? I’m a witch more than I’m anything else, including human and especially shifter. We already know that I share some of their qualities; I’ve had to ask the castle servants to cover up the gemstoneson display so I don’t get sidetracked when I walk by them. Other than some odd quirks, I don’t think I’d call myself insane.”
Camden holds the folder in front of my face and snaps, “This proposal shows you are! You intend to dangle yourself as bait to get them to negotiate?Really,Sierra? Do I need to point out the many times in human history where diplomacy wentdisastrouslywrong?”
“Only if you want me to hit you with each time it went fantasticallyright, saving millions of lives in the process!” My volume continues to rise. “Your elitist closed-off mindsetwill be the death of your kind. A month ago, that wouldn’t have bothered me—in fact, I’d have cheered the vampires and dark faye on. Thanks toyou, my sister has already been put in the line of fire in the course of your conflicts, which means this is now my fucking problem! Since it’s been made my problem, you cannot pretend to be surprised that I’m taking action, especially when nobody else seems to.”
“Iamtaking action!” he explodes. “Our military has been training and preparing overtime! I’ve mobilized packs worldwide for when the time for battle comes! Do you know how difficult it is to keep dozens ofwarriorpacks in line? Especially when I won’t leave you to go speak with them in person? Coordinating our military, defensive and offensive options, takes up the vast majority of my time.”
“Your military won’t meanshitif there’s magic on the other side!” I shout back.
Done with this argument and needing to show Camden the reality of the situation in terms that cannot be misunderstood, I push off the couch, walk over to the dining table, and call to my fire. My entire body warms for a moment before heat breaks out over my hand, bringing with it a black flame that bursts to life on my palm. I raise my flame covered hand in Camden’s direction, assuring it has his attention before using my index finger to tap the wood of one of the diningchairs. My fire instantly transfers to it, eating through the wood at a blurring speed until the chair is entirely gone, leaving behind only the faintest dusting of black ash on the carpet.
Camden watches me do so with an expression that’s half-wary, half-angry from our argument.
I enunciate every syllable as I say, “That is a fraction of magic, in the hands of a witch with no training. What do you think the entire faction of dark faye could do if they side with the vampires?” Before he can respond, I add, “Granted, I’ve been told black fire is an exceedingly rare power, but magic is magic, and I’m sure Claude can tell you shifters don’t stand a fucking chance against it in war unless they also have magic on their side.”
Camden inhales several deep breaths and then says through gritted teeth, “I see your point, but I donotlike the idea of working with witches. They’re only out for themselves.”
“From everything I’ve read and heard, they areextremelyprotective of their own. I am one of their own, a witch living in a castle of shifters,” I counter. “Don’t you think that protectiveness would innately extend to me?”
Camden falls silent before standing to pace across the room. He appears to be in a battle with himself—the insular nature of shifters warring with the fact that hemustknow I’m right. We cannot win the war with vampires alone, and the war will brew over into battles any day now. I killed a member of their royal family, and I suspect the vampire royals had a hand in the death of Camden’s mother. I imagine that’s more than enough instigation for their conflicts to finally reach a fever pitch and turn into swift, decisive, and deadly action on both parts.
After a while of pacing a hole into the floor, Camden stops abruptly and turns to me, his eyes having taken on a strange gleam that makesme nervous. He gestures for me to sit on the couch before walking over and seating himself on it. I do so hesitantly, unsure of what his decision on the proposal will be but willing to fight for his agreement.
In a carefully measured voice, Camden tells me, “I will agree to your proposal, as long as you agree to my conditions.”
Figures.I should know by now that nothing in this castle will come free; there’s always a catch when working with wolves. They’re cunning that way.
Camden reaches out to finger a piece of my hair, rubbing the long strands between his fingers with a contemplative expression. “Tomorrow night, you share my bed. If you agree, I’ll send a liaison to reach out to the nearest coven with the proposal first thing in the morning.”
“And if I don’t?” I ask warily.
Camden gives me a wolfish smile, dropping my hair. “I take my chances with just my packs as defense and offense.”
He’s being ridiculous; at this point, especially after my demonstration, he must realize that I’m working in his and his kingdom’s best interests, but being a crafty wolf he won’t give any concession without also receiving concessions. I don’t love the idea of sleeping in the same bed as him, but I have to admit…our most recent interactions haven’t been disastrous. He’s hot-headed, sure, but I’m learning how to navigate his moods.
