“He put his mouth on you,” Logan said, his gaze completely lacking in amusement. “The bastard, excuse my language, President, is lucky he’s still breathing. Right, Niall?” He slapped the king on the back, and Niall leaned over, coughing.
The president’s red lips twitched. “Agreed.”
“Excellent.” Logan shoved Niall across the room. “Soldiers will be here to escort you back to your people in a few moments. We have them put up, quite safely and comfortably, at demon headquarters.” He smiled. “Ladies? If you would please come with me.”
Mercy allowed the president to go first and then followed, noting that Logan waited until she passed to shut the door, covering her back.
A soldier in front of the president led the way to the same conference room as before. King Dage Kayrs and King Zane Kyllwood sat on one side, while she and the president sat on the other. Logan stood right behind her chair, his warmth comforting.
Dage began. “When you aligned yourselves with the Kurjans and their Cyst faction, you essentially declared war on the Realm.”
Mercy bit her lip.
The president remained quiet and cool, folding her hands on the table and looking as if she was out for a nice brunch. Amusement and pride filtered through Mercy. The Fae were just as tough as the rest of these immortals.
Zane nodded. “Then you released the long-held secret about the Seven, thus putting the entire universe in jeopardy.”
Mercy watched them. They were calm and collected this time, and the atmosphere in the room was mellow. No tension.
Dage exhaled. “Your weapons are impressive, as are your defenses and ability to travel inter-dimensionally.” For the first time, the King of the Realm smiled. She could hear hearts melting for miles. “I have to admit, before I met you, Mercy, I was starting to think fairies were as mythical as unicorns.”
Mercy’s eyebrows went up, and she shared a look with the president.
Dage frowned. “You don’t mean to tell me…”
Mercy nodded. “Yep. I’ve seen them myself. Horns and all.” Not in this dimension, of course.
“Huh.” Zane looked over her head at his brother. “Did you see any unicorns?”
“Nope.” Logan rested a hand on her shoulder, and she leaned back toward him. “I saw evil.”
Dage’s eyes darkened to a deeper silver. “Something to worry about another day. For today, President Dawn, we’d like to offer a treaty to the Fae nation. You become a member of the Realm and we exchange knowledge. You teach us how to make your weapons, and we’ll train your soldiers.”
The president smiled. “The Fae nation accepts.” She turned to Mercy. “Thank goodness. Your loyalties can remain undivided.” She winked.
Mercy stared. Had the president just actually winked? Talk about miracles. She placed her hand over Logan’s on her shoulder, covering about half of it. “No matter what happened here today, my loyalties are undivided. They belong to Logan. Always.”
The sound of his indrawn breath filled the air.
Zane smiled. “Welcome to the family, Mercy O’Malley.”
Her heart filled with warmth and gushed over. She was family. She had brothers. Tears pricked her eyes, startling her. “Thank you.” Her voice grew husky.
“One more thing,” Dage said, shifting his weight. “A favor, if you will. Would both of you submit to blood tests?”
Zane barked out laughter, as did Logan behind her.
She turned to study her mate’s handsome face. “What?”
He leaned down and kissed her. “The queen is a geneticist, and she is determined to learn all about immortal blood and maybe cure some human diseases in the process. It’s much easier to just give her the blood. The woman will chase you with a needle if necessary.”
Mercy turned back to Dage, who winced. “She really will. I’d count it as a personal favor if you’d stop by the lab before you leave today,” the king said.
“Leave?” Mercy repeated.
“Yes,” Logan said quietly from behind her. “While the Realm and Fae nations are apparently on the same page, the Seven has some work to do with the shifter and witch nations. We’ll be back within the week, when Mom gets here for a celebration of our mating.” His fingers firmed on her shoulders. “We’ll go over a few guidelines first.”
Guidelines? Mercy straightened. “I know the difference between a salad fork and a fish fork, Logan.” How insulting, and unlike him. Was his mother a high-society snob?
