Maltraz snorted a cloud of cinders. “Family troubles? How… mortal.”
“I know what happens if the wolves fracture,” I said. “So do you. The Council falls, and then the celestials come again. No more songs, just silence.”
He let out a laugh, the sound like a tree snapping in a fire. “You are still the only one who understands consequence, Wolf King.” He rose from his throne, looming over me, the heat radiating from his skin like an open furnace. “If I vote your way, you will owe me nothing. Our ledger will be clear.”
“Agreed.”
He grinned again, and this time the flame in his eyes softened, almost friendly. “It will be a pleasure to watch the world burn with you, Calloway.”
He offered his hand. It was three times the size of mine, tipped with obsidian claws. I shook it anyway, feeling the skin blister where our palms met.
“Done,” I said.
“Done,” he echoed.
He let me go, and I staggered back, the air filling my lungs with smoke and power. I bowed, just enough to acknowledge the beast, and turned to leave. As I walked out, his laughter followed, echoing off the walls long after I’d crossed back to the ruins and the taste of sulfur faded from my mouth. When I saw him for the Council vote, he will be in his more palatable, less monstrous form. I can’t say I’m not happy about it.
Four down. One to go.
And the last was the most dangerous of all.
The vampires didn’t do subtlety. Otero’s local compound was almost as grand as his one on the west coast. It was a cathedral of marble and crystal, every wall a mirror, every corridor designed to make you feel small and hungry. The air was icy and thick with the scent of rare flowers, cut with the tang of old copper and expensive cologne. Even the servants here glided—no footsteps, just a sense of passing breeze and a flash of dark eyes.
I was ushered through three sets of doors, each guarded by twins with perfect skin and teeth so white they hurt to look at. No one spoke. No one needed to. I was expected, and the expectation pressed down with every step.
Varic Otero waited on a terrace overlooking the city, his body framed by the moon and the pulsing grid of traffic below. He wore a suit three shades darker than blood, a high-collared shirt, and a ring on every finger. In one hand, a goblet; in the other, nothing but patience.
“Declan,” he said, nodding once. “The wolf who would be king of all things.”
“Otero.” I matched his stillness with my own, refusing to let him pace me.
He gestured to the seat beside him, a spindly thing of polished bone and velvet. “Care for a drink?”
I took the chair but not the offer. “I don’t mix.”
He smirked, a flash of fang. “Your loss.” He sipped, and I saw the red line left on the crystal. “I assume you’re here about your daughter.”
“I’m here about tomorrow’s vote.”
He made a soft sound, almost a purr. “You’re losing, you know.”
I let that pass. “It isn’t over until the last hand is shown.”
He glanced down at the traffic, fingers tracing the rim of his glass. “Your daughter’s happiness means so little to you?”
“This isn’t about happiness. It’s about order. If you want chaos, let the southern packs off their leash and see how long you keep your empire.”
He looked at me then, eyes so dark they swallowed the light. “You threaten me?”
“I warn you.” I leaned in, letting my own hunger bleed through. “Without structure, everything falls. Even your house, Otero.”
He nodded, a slow, measured beat. “And what do you offer in return for my… compliance?”
“Exclusive hunting rights in the East Territories, for one. And next time the Council selects a leader, I’ll cast for you.”
He laughed, a cold, brittle sound. “You’d make yourself my puppet?”
“I’d make us both kings,” I said, and smiled. “With greater reach.”
