Roke hissed in shock. “What the hell kind of question is that?”
“A very reasonable one.”
With an effort, Roke resisted the urge to punch his friend in the face.
He was pissed, not insane.
“You wouldn’t think so if I asked you if you are satisfied with Darcy.”
Styx was unrepentant. “My mating to Darcy wasn’t caused by a spell gone wrong.”
“Any mating is a result of demon magic no matter whose magic it might be,” Roke snapped.
He didn’t want to be lectured as if he were too stupid to know what he wanted, or needed.
“You know that it’s not the same,” Styx said.
Roke swore in frustration. “What do you want from me?”
“Sariel will soon be leaving to join his people.”
Roke didn’t try to hide his relief that the arrogant bastard would soon be out of his hair.
Not only had Sariel broken Sally’s heart by admitting he had no interest in her beyond what she could do for him, but he’d selfishly lured her into danger to save his ass.
The sooner he disappeared, the better.
“Thank the gods.”
“Yeah. You get no argument from me,” Styx groused, having endured Sariel’s litany of complaints from the size of his bedroom to the food he was served. Apparently, Styx’s lair wasn’t a suitable setting for his Excellency, the King of the Chatri. “But, he’s the one who has the knowledge and the power to remove Sally’s spell.”
The windows rattled beneath Roke’s blast of anger. “No.”
Styx slammed his fists on his hips. “Roke, you need to think about this.”
“It’s done.” Roke slashed his hand through the air. “End of story.”
The Anasso refused to back down. “It might not be. Have you considered the possibility that you might eventually meet your true mate?”
There was no hesitation. “Sally is my true mate.”
“You won’t know that for certain unless you break the spell,” Styx pressed.
Roke shook his head. He didn’t need to break the spell to know the truth.
Sally was so deeply ingrained inside him there was no possibility the bond with her could ever be broken.
“I told you, no.”
“If she’s your true mate, then you can finalize the bond in the more traditional way.”
Roke folded his arms over his chest, not about to confess that he had every intention of finalizing the bond as soon as he could get Sally alone.
The mere thought of sinking his fangs deep into her flesh and tasting the peach-scented blood . . .
Christ, he was fully erect just imagining the explosive pleasure.
Turning back toward the window, Roke instinctively searched for his mate who was traveling past the garden and out the fences that protected the grounds.
Where the hell was she going?
“We can’t be certain that trying to break the spell is safe,” he muttered.
Styx hesitated, clearly considering the danger to Sally for the first time.
“You think it might hurt her?”
“We have to be careful.” Roke placed a hand on the window, not happy his mate was out of sight. “She’s just coming into her powers. They’re too unstable to screw around with.”
“This might be your only opportunity,” Styx warned, sounding frustrated by Roke’s growing distraction. “Once the Chatri leaves there won’t be anyone here to teach Sally how to break the spell.”
Roke hid his smile of satisfaction.
He didn’t want anyone teaching Sally how to break the spell.
“The decision has been made.”
Styx allowed a punishing trickle of his power to slam into Roke. Not enough to damage him, but certainly sufficient to gain his attention.
“Have you made the decision for Sally as well?” he demanded.
Roke was caught off guard by the question. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Did you ask her if she wants to continue the mating?”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
Styx gave him an are-you-shitting-me look. “Your clan did try to kill her.”
A cold, unnerving fear trickled down his spine.
He couldn’t dwell on all the reasons Sally might decide he wasn’t worthy to be her mate. Not when he knew the scales weren’t weighted in his favor.
“I promised Sally that it would never happen again,” Roke swore.
Styx’s expression abruptly softened and he reached out to grasp his shoulder.
“Talk to her, amigo,” he urged. “It’s only fair.”
Roke scowled. “Maybe I don’t want to be fair.”
Sally walked beside her father in silence as they left the manicured lawns of Styx’s estate to the narrow band of trees that were beyond the high fences that concealed the house from its distant neighbors.
She wasn’t sure why Sariel had asked her to stroll with him.
He’d made it fairly obvious he hadn’t been pleased by her insistence on freeing the imprisoned fey. Or by her refusal to listen to his warnings that the vampires were dangerous beasts who were destined to betray her.
Somehow she’d assumed he would simply disappear. No good-bye. No thank you for saving his life.
Which made this strange encounter even more awkward.
“I assume you will soon be returning to your people?” she asked, feeling a sudden need to break the silence.
“Our people,” he corrected, halting so he could turn to study her with his amber gaze. “And yes, I must join them.”
She cleared her throat, still not comfortable with the idea she was some sort of powerful Chatri. Even worse, the poor creatures they’d released from the Nebule prison had been so determined to show her their gratitude they’d spent the entire day spreading word of her heroism throughout the fey world.
Already there were piles of gifts outside the gates to Styx’s driveway and several dozen fairies hoping for a glimpse of her and her father, the King of the Chatri.
It was enough to make any woman long to lock herself in her bedroom and throw away the key.
Especially if that bedroom included a silver-eyed vampire who could make her shiver with the demanding pleasure of his lips and the sweet invasion of his hard body that made her arch in need.
She licked her lips, resisting the urge to tug at the neckline of her sweatshirt as a hot flash nearly boiled her alive.
Holy crap.
With an effort, she slammed the door on the image of Roke spread naked on her bed.
It was just . . . creepy when she was standing next to her father.