not screw with the evil king—his girlfriend might be worse.” She dropped her chin, pinning him with her stare. “Are you willing to war for these lands, Micah?”
“Yes,” he offered simply, making it clear he meant it. “I’ve only begun to fight, princess.”
“Your Honor,” she corrected him.
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. “I have resources I have yet to tap.”
“That’s good. Because so do I. I won’t back down, and I’ll never surrender. I will always protect what’s mine. No,” she added when he opened his mouth to respond. “Let me finish. You are hereby pardoned of your crime.”
When his brow furrowed, she explained, “You strike me as an honorable guy. Granted, I’m not an amazing judge of character, only an amazing judge. You fought for your land to the best of your ability, but you lost. Twice. You cannot give my people what they want and deserve, so I won’t return them to your care. Take the pass and be grateful I’ve cleared your slate. One day, we might be allies. But come at me and mine again, and the real battle begins.”
Thanks to her connection to the vines, she had no trouble flittering Micah to the swamplands. He could deal with the swamp monster she’d been hearing about.
With the first docket cleared...the time had come for the second and last. Kaysar’s choice, whatever it was, decided their relationship.
Her vines squeezed Hador so tightly his face mottled. “No need for a trial. The verdict has come in. Guilty as charged.” She cast her gaze to Kaysar. “You decide his sentence, baby. We kill him here, together, or I let him go today, so you can continue your vengeance tomorrow.”
Did he understand what she asked? The choice came with consequences, whatever he decided. Be with Cookie, or without her. They’d run out of side options.
If he needed the connection to his sister, so be it. His life, his choice. She would clear the path of debris, and offer him a future. But she wouldn’t be second or third place any longer.
Cookie judged herself worthy of more, too.
She purposely kept her features blank of any emotion, unwilling to sway his response.
Sweat dotted his upper lip. His gaze darted between Hador and Cookie. He aimed fury as his past abuser, and desperation at her. Anxiety rippled from him in waves.
Elation swelled in her heart as he stepped closer to her. Then he heaved a tired breath, and she feared the worst. He wasn’t ready to give up his quest for retaliation, was he? Not for her. Not even for himself.
Profound disappointment gave way to gut-wrenching hurt, but she revealed none of it. Smiling softly, she told him, “It’s okay. There is no wrong answer, Claw Man. What you want, you get. That is my gift to you.”
“Vengeance,” he croaked, his expression savaged. “Tomorrow.”
Sliced to ribbons, hemorrhaging inside, she held the smile and flittered Hador into the swamplands, next to a fuming Micah. Enjoy with my compliments.
Kaysar had made his choice.
Now, they would both live with it.
“What did you do with him?” he asked as his breathing evened out.
“Don’t worry. He’s alive.” It took some effort, but Cookie bottled up her hurt and placed it on a shelf in the back of her mind. Audience forgotten, she stood and molded herself against the man she loved beyond any doubt or reason, her palm flattened over his racing heart.
His breath hitched, and he tentatively wound his arms around her, as if he feared her reaction.
One last night. Desire surging, she rasped, “Take me to bed, Kaysar.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
KAYSAR FLITTERED CHANTEL to their bedroom, materializing at the foot of the bed, but he didn’t kiss her. Not yet. His instincts were pinging again, telling him trouble brewed. But she peered at him with such fervent desire as candlelight bathed her delicate features, he told himself he was mistaken. Only pleasure waited in his future, his dreams coming true right before his eyes.
He had his mate, and he would continue to have his vengeance, the two no longer at odds. Kaysar could hurt Hador Frostline during the day and enjoy Chantel at night. What male in all of Astaria would lead a better life?
His joy knew no bounds. Except for that damningly persistent ping. And a small kernel of unease...set within a larger pod also filled with kernels of disappointment and despair. And he didn’t know why.
Now wasn’t the time to dissect every thought and emotion. He’d missed Chantel too much to lose himself to fear.
Gently smoothing a