Not until the end.
“Okay, sweet star,” Zakkai said softly. “I’ll agree to those terms for now.”
His words sent a chill down my spine. Not because of the way he spoke them, but because of the implication behind them.
They’d just struck a deal.
One none of us could hear.
But I knew what she’d just agreed to.
The Blood Gala.
In ten days, our fates would be decided.
Again.
“I DON’T LIKE THIS.”
Zeph uttered a variation of those four words after every dream session with Aflora this week. I definitely preferred the fantasies where we all ended up naked. But that was impossible to do with Zakkai observing from the corner.
The Quandary Blood rarely spoke. However, his presence was absolutely felt.
This arrangement couldn’t last forever, as evidenced by Zeph pacing beside me.
“Come back to bed,” I told him. “There are still a few more hours before we need to leave. We should try to get some proper sleep.” While the dreams technically allowed our bodies to rest, it kept our minds vividly engaged. Which left us tired after endless lessons in Aflora’s head.
“How the hell am I supposed to sleep when that Quandary Blood has our mate?”
“He’s one of her mates, too,” I reminded him.
“And you’re okay with that?” Zeph demanded, spinning around to face me. “How are you not raging over this, Kols? You’ve been the epitome of calm, like this means nothing to you. I don’t get it.”
“Like it means nothing to me?” I repeated, arching a brow. “This means everything to me, Zeph.”
“Yet, you didn’t even react to the fact that Dakota is there. Did you miss the part about her attacking Aflora?”
Not this again. “What do you want me to do? Rant and rave? We both know I want to kill that power-hungry cunt. And I will if I ever see her again.” Not just because she’d apparently hurt Aflora, but also because of our past experience. She was like a fire gnat that just didn’t know how to bugger off.
“Then how the hell do you expect either of us to sleep? I can barely focus, let alone try to relax.” He resumed his pacing. “We’ve just accepted that he took our mate to a paradigm in some undisclosed location, surrounded by fae whom we don’t know, and Dakota is there. And we haven’t done a damn thing to fix it. Not to mention all the bullshit with the Council and the Elders.”
He ran his fingers through his dark hair, his torso flexing with the movement.
Zeph had logged a lot of hours at the gym this week, and it showed. He was already solid muscle. But now those muscles were all tensed and fired up.
“Are you even listening to me?” he demanded, his green eyes flaring with power.
“I’m listening,” I said. And admiring, I added to myself. “I’m not sure what you expect me to do. I don’t like the situation, but Aflora is safer with Zakkai at the moment. We can’t properly protect her with my father and Constantine breathing down my neck.”
As it was, we’d already been summoned for a visit with my father later tonight. He wanted to discuss the final preparations for the Blood Gala. And in a strange twist of fate, he’d required that Zeph travel back with me to Nacht Manor.
“Safer,” he drawled, his disdain coloring the word in a darker tone. “I’m not sure I agree with that assessment, given his track record at the Academy and in the village.”
“Aflora said that wasn’t him, but the Council setting a trap.” Considering everything else they’d done, I didn’t find that very difficult to believe.
“Yes, bringing us to an entirely different topic and issue—she seems to be buying into his bullshit, which has me seriously questioning her intelligence.”
I sighed. “You don’t really mean that.” We’d come too far for him to truly feel that way about Aflora. “You know she’s brilliant. You also know she’s not one to trust easily. She’s been burned too many times. By us.”