Tick, tick, tick went that jaw muscle. “In hell, you have no one but me.”
“There’s nothing you can say to convince me to become your concubine. Nothing.”
“No? How about peace for Sylvan? If you became mine, the M?ri?r would refrain from attacking.”
Her lips parted.
“Each hour I’m here enjoying you is an hour I’m not warring against the fey.”
“And how long will that last?”
“A standard demonic concubine contract lasts for a minimum of a thousand years.”
A millennium? With this fucker?
“However, since you are my mate I’m interested in securing you . . . indefinitely. I will make you my queen.”
She gaped at him.
“You were willing to risk your life to warn your kingdom about my invasion. Wed me, and you can end the specter of war entirely.”
Marrying him would mean surrendering forever all of her pie-in-the-sky dreams: to live safely in Sylvan, to be the queen of that realm, to start a family that would also live in safety, and possibly to fall in love.
What if Saetth was innocent in all this? If she could get back to him, she could have a wedding and coronation this very season. They could start having kids right away.
Her fey children would run the forests as she had.
Even if Saetth had dicked her over, she could find someone else for herself. Anyone else.
A male who was normal. Who knew what a phone app was. Who didn’t accessorize with a battle-ax. Who wouldn’t cringe to picture the kids they’d have together.
Abyssian squared his shoulders. “For as long as you are my wife, I vow to the Lore that the inhabitants of Sylvan are safe from my alliance. None will fall by a M?ri?r’s hand.”
She drew back her head in disbelief. A vow to the Lore was unbreakable, yet she knew how badly he wanted to punish her kingdom. “Ah, I see, the master of trickery is playing with me. You’ll figure some way out of your vow, and make me a victim of your games yet again. You’re illustrating why I could never trust you!”
“The time for games has passed.”
“You’re . . . serious? Then this is coercion.”
He shook his head. “A mutually beneficial arrangement.”
If she was bound to Abyssian, Rune would have to back off.
Was she actually considering this marriage? How could she not when it would save her people and herself? “You’d vow to keep me safe from any threat to my life? Any at all?”
“Yes. I easily make that pledge.”
Eventually he’d find out she was Magh’s descendant. His vow would force him to protect her—even from Rune! “Maybe if you didn’t demand sex—”
“Not an option,” he said, tone unyielding.
“We aren’t physically compatible. I’m too small compared to you.” When he’d loomed over her in that glen . . . “You’re well over a foot taller than I am. With your wings, you must have three times my weight, and you’ve got to be ten thousand times stronger.”
He’d begun shaking his head before she’d even finished. “I promise you, we will be compatible.”
Sex. With Abyssian Infernas. She ignored the spike in her pulse. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me. Losing my virginity with you will hurt.” Despite her new immortality.
And he’d need to bite her during the claiming. She recalled his reaction at dinner when she’d said she would accept a mate’s bite. Abyssian had looked like he’d forgotten how to blink.
Perhaps in that past life, she—or Kari—had rejected the possibility. Lila had been truthful, though. If she were mated to a male she loved—and trusted—she would bare her neck, taking her medicine.
Loving and trusting Abyssian weren’t in her future.
“I would be as gentle with you as possible.”
Her lifelong aspiration to be Sylvan’s queen faded from distant hope toward wistful memory. But if she kept the M?ri?r from attacking her people, she could do more for them than any other ruler before.
Isn’t sacrifice what queens do?
When she imagined Abyssian’s ax raised against the Sylvan army . . . or one of Rune’s arrows piercing her heart . . .
Dear gods, she was going to have to surrender to the king of hell.
Dear. Gods.
She’d wondered whether fate had some kind of cosmic plan in store for her. Lila’s mind flashed to a memory of playing with her dolls, pretending they were her subjects in need of protection. Maybe she’d been reborn to sacrifice herself—damning herself to hell—for Sylvan.
“I will have your answer now,” Abyssian said. “I understand you’ll be giving up certain . . . things to live here. But through your actions, Sylvan will be spared for an eternity of eternities.”
The exact phrase N?x had used.
Realization struck. This had all played out according to the Valkyrie’s plan. That bitch.
I was a pawn to save Sylvan, in ways I never even suspected.
Had Saetth been in on the plan? She’d questioned why her fiancé wouldn’t simply order her assassination; maybe because he’d known she needed to be alive for this sacrifice? “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Abyssian exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath. “Very good. Just so we understand each other: as my wife, you’ll serve me in every way, doing my bidding.”
Frustrations that had compounded all her life boiled to the surface. She met Abyssian’s gaze. “I hate you.”
In a lover’s voice, he said, “And I you. That’s why our marriage will work. Neither of us will expect anything more than pleasure between us.”
Expediency was key.
Fearing Calliope would back out from their agreement, Sian hadn’t even given her a chance to change her clothing for the wedding. He’d hastily teleported her into his empty court, appearing in front of the throne dais for the simple hand-fasting ceremony.
Her pupils had dilated to the size of coins.
Part of him was just as shocked. She agreed to wed me? Her decision made him grudgingly respect her more. Like Kari, Calliope was nothing if not loyal.