“The spark,” I said plainly.
Thaddeus laughed from Wymond’s other side. “Look around, Nyleeria. We don’t need a bargain to take the spark.”
“Actually,” I said, crossing my arms, “you do.”
The High Lord raised a questioning brow, then indicated for me to continue.
“Thaddeus, explain to the High Lord why you lowered yourself to begging me for the spark while we were in bed, instead of just taking it.”
Wymond looked to the king, whose lips were pursed as he took my measure. “Thaddeus?”
The king didn’t answer.
“It’s because,” I said, “his spell needs awillingparticipant for it to work. And allow me to be crystal clear when I say that I am not, nor will I be willing, unless you enter into a bargain with me.” I stared Wymond down, daring him to challenge me.
He gestured around us. “I’d say there are four more reasons for you to oblige.”
I took a small step forward. “Then do it,” I challenged, “but know the second you so much as harm a hair on their heads, I will refuse you the spark—forever.”
“You’re bluffing,” Thaddeus scoffed.
I tilted my head, still holding the High Lord’s gaze. “Am I?”
Wymond narrowed his eyes in assessment. Carefully, he said, “You’d sacrifice all of them to prove your point?”
I shook my head. “No. If they die, I no longer have a reason to live. But if I must live under those circumstances, then I will make itmy life’s mission to keep you from yours. And trust me when I say that I will bathe in your anger as I deprive you from the vengeance you seek for Lanacia and your son. You see, Wymond, you made a mistake killing Kaelun in cold blood, because you’re not the only one that can break someone. The problem is, when I break, I snap, and I have no qualms taking you down with me—regardless of the cost.
“So, tell me, are you willing to pay the price of their deaths? Because I am.”
Chapter 60
Dust to Dust
Wymond was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. The truth was, we were all doused in torch oil, and I was holding the ember ready to burn both our worlds to the ground.
Kaelun’s death broke something in me, and I wasn’t sure if that fracture would ever heal. But if I was going to be forced to watch another one of them die, then I was damn well going to get something out of it.
We held each other’s gaze, silently challenging the other to flinch. The problem for the High Lord was that I wasn’t bluffing—and he knew it.
“This bargain,” he said, finally breaking the silence. “What do you propose?” His words were filled with poorly veiled contempt. If he hated me before that moment, he now loathed the very air I breathed. Which was the only common ground we shared.
I’d already worked out the wording in my mind while we were in our silent battle of wills, but there was one thing I had to confirm. Shifting my focus to Endymion, I asked, “The magic that binds abargain, it goes past the laws of magic, right? It will carry out what’s promised even if it’s beyond Wymond’s capabilities as a High Lord?”
He stared me down for what felt like an eternity, refusing to answer.
“Yes,” Artton finally said from behind Endymion, his voice thick.
“Artton,” Endymion warned.
“You’re her kintoran,” Caius’ second shot back. “You should know by now she’s going to do this whether you want her to or not. You really think it’s a good time to shut your mouth when she’s asking for help? It’s the least we can do for fucking up this bad.”
Endymion’s eyes swam with guilt and resignation as I looked to him for answers. “Artton is right,” he said. “The magic that binds a bargain will carry out what’s been promised. It’s not dependent on either fae’s abilities or powers.”
I nodded in thanks, then re-squared my shoulders to the High Lord.
His honey-brown eyes watched me with cautious curiosity—no doubt hoping I’d make a mistake he could exploit. The words were on my tongue, but my chest constricted, stealing some of my bravado.
I must have played the verbiage in my mind a hundred times, assessing it from every angle I could think of to ensure he couldn’t trap me. My pulse pounded in my head, and I thought I might be sick.
