Eleanor and away from hearing distance. Slowly, I crossed my arms and nodded. “Fine. What are my two choices?”
“You sell her—”
I growled.
He held up a hand. “You sell her, and you regret it for a few days…a week. You have blue balls, and you go and fuck a goddess who will willingly spread her legs for you. Jinx goes to a place that ensures she’s out of your life. Your world continues the way it should—the way you fought for it to be. Things don’t get fucked up.”
I squeezed my arms tighter, trembling with the urge to shut him up. He spoke rationally; he made sense. That was what scared me about hearing his second point.
I already knew what he’d say.
I already fucking agreed with him.
“Or…” Calvin sighed, looking pissed but also regretful, already tasting the change that would happen if I kept Eleanor instead of removing her from my world. “Or you keep her. You fall in love with her—if you’re not already. You fuck her. You adore her. You realise that she’s exactly like all the animals you’ve liberated in the past. That she’s caged here, trapped against her will, and you…you let her go. You let her go, and she either ends up in a worst situation or—”
“Or I hurt her myself.”
He nodded. “You don’t exactly have the best track record.”
“What happened wasn’t intentional.” My voice bled free from rage, leaving only horror behind. Horror of what I’d done when we’d saved so many animals from their nightmarish cages.
“I know. But…it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” Calvin stepped away from me, unable to read if I was about to kill him or accept who I was.
Eleanor wasn’t safe with me.
In any capacity.
Only those I felt contempt for were immune.
Suddenly, the anger thickening my veins dispersed, leaving me nauseous. I’d agreed to sell Eleanor for my sanity, but sending her away would also guarantee her safety.
Roy Slater was a bastard, but he wasn’t an evil sonovabitch. He would do what he said. He’d marry her, protect her, and if their marriage didn’t work out, then Eleanor would have the funds to fight him.
Turning to face Slater, I snapped my fingers. “Come here.”
I had to do this before I changed my mind. Before I reverted to a love-struck, pathetic fool.
The man hurried toward me, his face bouncing between hope and hate. “So? Do we still have a deal?”
I tried to breathe, air whistling through my heart-empty chest, but I nodded. “On one stipulation.”
His eyes narrowed. “What stipulation?”
“The price has gone up. A million to take her from my shores and a million to marry her.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but I finished, “The second million goes directly to her. Cash. She hides it where she wants. She has a bolt fund to leave you if you ever step out of line.”
Calvin sucked in a breath beside me as I raised my hand.
Slater paused for a moment, biting his bottom lip as he ran over the consequences and calamities that could possibly come from this transaction.
Finally, he inserted his hand into mine. “Done.” His fingers pulsed with conviction. “But I want this in writing.”
“And I need a fucking drink.” Dropping his hold, I stalked back to my office, wishing I had some way to stop my internal bleeding and something to wedge into the emptiness where my heart used to be.
With my hand on the door, I braced myself to look at Eleanor one last time.
To escort her from my paradise which had somehow become everlasting hell.
I went to say goodbye.
Chapter Thirty-Four
THE STOLEN VIAL OF elixir bruised my palm.
I trembled as the three men returned, striding through the door, all three staring hungrily at me. I tried to give each equal attention, to hide my thievery, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Sully.
I’d seen him kingly and imposing, undone and furious, sea-drenched and secretive, tortured and solemn.
But this was different.
When I’d arrived in his office, second-guessing my warfare of wearing a ball gown at ten in the morning, he’d frozen the moment he’d seen me. A shroud fell over him, a deep midnight curtain where his morals vanished beneath want.
His hunger had been palatable. His need for me reached across the room and made me wet. I couldn’t deny that my skin had prickled and my nipples had pebbled and every reaction I wished I didn’t have sprang into an intensity that reeked with damnation.