Daughters of Askara, Tome 3 : Eversworn

“We agreed once I had control of the mine, your services would no longer be required.” His grip on the sample whitened his knuckles. “The entire point of freeing you to work for Emmaline was to monitor the Feriana colony’s mining operation and the Evanti controlling its distribution.” He struck before I saw him swing. Jagged rock hit my cheek and sliced it open. “Such an arrangement no longer benefits me since Emmaline has mated the Evanti in charge and is more protective of Harper than ever. Since he won’t negotiate for exclusive rights to the mine, alternate means of procurement are required.” His gaze met mine. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

I swallowed past the pain. “What do you have in mind?”

“We are eager today, aren’t we?” He pocketed the embolite. “Somewhere you’d rather be?”

Anywhere other than here. “No.”

“Good,” he said, smiling, “because you’re going on a trip.”

“I am?” I glided a wary step back.

“How is that Evanti you tended?” He appeared thoughtful. “I believe he’s called…Dillon.”

My pulse spiked at the mention of his name. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

He measured me for a moment longer, and I wondered why he had mentioned Dillon at all. The wounded Evanti demon had spent weeks under my care at the consulate before returning to the freemen colony on the outskirts of Feriana.

Withdrawing a handkerchief from his pocket, Roland dabbed my split cheek. “During those weeks, nothing happened between you?”

I sensed a trap but was unable to locate its mechanism. I stilled myself against the urge to strike his hand. My blood allowed his glamour to work on me no matter what our proximity. A single drop, a murmured spell, and he could find me, taunt me, anywhere. His illusionary kiss was benign compared to the power blood sparked in our connection. But why ask if something happened between Dillon and me…?

Mortification tightened my chest. “You’re a bastard.”

Of course he would spy on me, and my behavior around Dillon made heat creep up my neck.

“I assure you, I’m not. Bastards can’t become kings. You’re Sereian.” He stalked me until I backed into the wall. “You’d do well to remember Askara’s antislavery laws don’t apply to you.”

As if he ever let me forget.

When his gaze fixated on my mouth, I reminded him, “You cast me aside years ago.”

“Still bitter are we? I’m in the market for a wife.” He cupped my cheek. “And you,” he said, so near his lips brushed mine, “are a whore.” His thumb swiped over the fresh wound he’d given me, and my wince resulted in a low growl of approval from him. “Albeit, you’re a talented one.”

“You have what you came for.” I gritted my teeth as he pressed on the cut. “Leave me.”

“Not quite and not yet.” He painted my lips with blood, its copper tang curling my tongue. “As I said, the terms of our agreement must be altered. As a token of appreciation for pleasure you once gave me, for the loyalties I still enjoy, I’m offering you a chance at earning freedom.”