Chapter 5 #3
Carmine glanced at his mother. “Who would you eliminate?”
“All three at once. The weakest mate in each pairing. The stronger mate will then be easy to dispatch afterward. The coven leader’s male mate, the Vissimo queen, and either Luther.”
“The male Luther is stronger,” Carmine retorted.
“Yes, and the female is smarter. The loss of her will rob the pack leader of control, and also leave the pack in tatters.”
A solid idea from Athira. However… “If your intent is to divide and conquer, then going for all three at once doesn’t line up. They may not expect the targeted attack, but you’ll lessen your chances of succeeding by dividing our focus.”
Hiub swallowed audibly.
“Do you need a drink?” I asked her.
She froze in her chair.
Gu replied, “I agree with the mate-intended. If we attack all three and fail, then they will know of our plan.”
“They’ll know of our plan the first time we attempt it.” Athira waved a hand in the air. “May as well use the advantage of surprise and see if we strike success.”
I asked Carmine, “Who would you target?”
He blinked, and I felt a subtle shift ripple through the room. I’d questioned the king. I hadn’t meant the question as a power play, but considering he hadn’t asked for my input yet, it kind of did come across as me trying to run the show.
Oops.
Not sorry.
“Your sister,” he answered, despite the clenching of his jaw.
My sister. I’d remembered her while under Tyran’s power, and I’d wanted to kill her to prove myself to Carmine. I didn’t react to his comment. She was the one I’d choose for the simple reason that Tyran couldn’t beat her. I didn’t want to come across too eager.
I didn’t want them to go for Andie and succeed. I didn’t know how she united us all, just that she did.
Darthy’s father cleared his throat. “With your ability to raise an army of the dead, mate-intended, then we could achieve that. Or whatever you did to render her unconscious during the battle on tribal lands.”
The others murmured their agreement.
I pursed my lips. “I suppose you’re right. I could do those things.”
They shot looks at the king.
No one had missed the unstated “if” of my statement.
“Leave us,” Carmine said.
Hiub was first out of the door. Poor thing. If only she knew that she had the most potential.
Athira remained where she was after a look from her son.
“What are your terms?” he asked me without looking up from the papers before him.
My terms?
Oh, that’s right. I was meant to be filled with white magic, and therefore white-scale intelligence. They probably had terms stashed up their butts to pull out whenever they needed some.
Might as well ask for all the things he wouldn’t give.
“Sex,” I told him. “Another ritual. A child. A crown.”
He snapped up his head. “There is only one crown. And I wear that.”
Definitely insecure. I had to come up with ways to work that to my advantage.
I smiled. “I meant becoming queen, of course.”
“And if you birthed a son, what then?” he snarled.
“Then you would do what kings do, assumedly.”
Tyran leaned back. He wasn’t giving Carmine any airtime today. Maybe I’d gotten my mate into trouble by dropping news about our dream.
Athira darted me a look, and I ignored her.
“Perhaps it is time for change,” he murmured at last. “I agree to your terms.”
He did?
“You may return to my bed,” he said, as if his mother wasn’t in the room. “You will receive your child in time. Once our mating is complete, then I will officially recognize you as queen.”
“After the next ritual,” I countered. “The ritual you missed out of your list.”
Here was a predicament for him. He believed I was up to my eyeballs in his white magic, but instead of that serving him, I was proving to be a pain in his behind.
If he went through another ritual, then he assumed more white magic would fill me, and that he would possess less, so I’d be more of a pain in his butt, and also more powerful.
He almost seemed to fear the presence of another white scale, even if that white scale was another version of him. He didn’t like being unable to predict or decipher what the other version of himself was going to do.
It just went to show that a person could be too smart for their own good. A crimson wouldn’t ever have dug themselves into such a head spin.
Tyran said, “The next ritual can move ahead once you show me you are dedicated to the future of this realm.”
I could just imagine what that meant. “By killing my sister.”
He smirked. “That would convince me, yes.”
Time to call a bluff. “Why didn’t you just say so? Done.”
His smirk dropped.
That bluff had been 1000 percent worth it. Maybe I was playing the part of a cunning demon, and secretly bouncing from moment to moment, but he didn’t need to know that.
Now I just had to figure out how to fake kill my sister.
No biggie.
I rose from my seat. “I’ll let you know the details.”
His eyes narrowed.
Hmm, what else would Tyran do?
On my way out of the room, I called over my shoulder, “And I was serious about getting some yellows and oranges in here. Ditch the reds. They’re pitiful.”