"Oh, I'm sure she is," Maeve mutters, folding her arms. "She wants me to break the bond. I didn't expect to marry two vampires to a nymph, and certainly not to divorce them three weeks later. What makes you think I'll stick around for this horror show? I already see where it ends. More blood. Probably mine."
"You'll stay," Darius says, smooth as ever, "because I'll return everything I took from you. And give you more."
Maeve looks at him long and hard, disgust warping every inch of her face. "You really think you canbuypeople back? Like lost property?"
He doesn't blink. "When one is as wealthy and powerful as I am—yes. I can."
I snort so hard it hurts. "Wow. Just… wow. You're a damn fountain of charm, goat man. Can't imagine whyanyonewould want to run screaming from your cozy embrace."
He doesn't react, which pisses me off more.
Astrid barges back in, arms full of half-frozen bottles she clearly liberated from the depths of the freezer. "Look who's talking," she throws at me with a crooked grin.
I raise a brow. "Oh, come on, valkyrie. I thought you and I had athing. Some shared understanding. At the very least, you've got to admit, I'm better thanthisguy." I jerk a thumb toward Darius, who somehow manages to radiate disdain by standing still.
She barks a laugh. "You three are so alike it's a wonder you haven't noticed. Obsessive, possessive, and perfectly willing to raze the world to get what you want. You take different roads, but they all end the same—everyone else ends up dead."
"Sage has a type," Donna pipes up with a shrug. Then, almost as an afterthought: "Sorry, Asher. But you too."
The three of us—me, my brother, and the tree cult CEO—exchange a look.
It's… uncomfortable.
I guess I'm not the only one who doesn't want to face it. But now that it's out there, I can't unsee it.
Still, I lean on the only thing I've got—sarcasm.
"Okay, sure. But let's be honest, I've got the best hair."
Donna snorts. Even Astrid's mouth twitches.
It's easier to crack a joke than admit the truth: we brought the storm to this town and the collateral damage is stacking up. I know the goat man isn't wallowing in guilt, but Asher is.ThatI care about. Even if I'll never say it out loud.
"All unnecessary comparisons aside," Darius interjects, like it's a corporate strategy meeting, "what do you say, Maeve? Your pride can't possibly be louder than your logic."
Maeve exhales sharply through her nose. Annoyed, but not outright murder-y, which is progress. "Ten million. For my project."
"Done," Darius says without blinking. "More than that—I'll roll it into Hawthorn Industries. Public launch. You'll present it during the event in Briar Hollow. Sage will know you're there. She'll come."
"And your plan is what? Ambush her between the canapés and champagne?" I mutter.
"We'll have my team ready with a compound of wildbane and nightshade. It should knock her unconscious without killing her," he says calmly.
"Bold to assume she'll show," I say. "What if she torches the place?"
"Do you have a better plan, vampire?" Darius asks, voice infuriatingly even.
I don't answer. He's right. Sage isn't in her right mind, and we don't have a single clue where she's hiding. Tracking her in miles of Maine's forests? Good-fucking-luck.
"I didn't think so," Darius concludes.
And gods, I want to punch him again.
But I don't. Of course I don't. We're allies and all, and I hate it, but can't do anything about it.
"We'll make it happen, then," Asher says, folding his arms. "Use the event to draw her in. Are you okay with that, Maeve?"
As if she has a choice when the satyr's throwing his empire around like poker chips.
