He stepped up to his brother, close enough to touch. “All right. I’ll let you handle this in whatever way you think is best.” He locked his fingers around the back of Daemon’s neck, knowing he left himself vulnerable to nails that were, right now, sharp enough to slice clean through his ribs. “In exchange for letting you handle this, I want a promise in return.”

“Ask.”

“I don’t know what was wrong with you. I don’t need to know.”

“Yes, you do. There are things we need to discuss. About me.”

“Fine. We’ll do that. The point is, old son, I feel the difference in you, which is why I know that whatever was wrong with you has been mended, and with you being in this suite, I can guess who did the mending. I want your word that if you start to sense that something isn’t right, regardless of the reason, that you will tell me, that you’ll let me help.”

“And if you sense something isn’t right, we’ll have an agreed-upon phrase that tells me I need to retreat. That’s one of the things we need to discuss.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Lucivar squeezed Daemon’s neck. “Listen to me, Bastard. If you need to fight, we’ll fight. Remember when we were slaves and used to beat on each other as a way to release power and tension? We could do that again.”

“Since I have a clear memory of how I felt after we did that, I’ll pass, thanks.”

“If you do need to scrap with someone, you come to me.” Lucivar swallowed hard. Everything had a price. “And if the Sadist needs to play with someone, you come to me.”

“Lucivar . . .”

“If that’s what you need, you come to me. Understand?”

“Yes. I understand.” Daemon rested his forehead against Lucivar’s. His hands slowly rose and curled around Lucivar’s wrists. “Being here helps. I can breathe here.” He hesitated, then whispered, “Being here will help me stay sane.”

Now Lucivar hesitated, then decided he would never bring it up again. “Surreal loves you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Not all of me,” Daemon whispered. “She loves what she’s known, which is who I am when all the leashes are in place, but she’s afraid of who, and what, I am without those leashes. And now those leashes may never be tight enough for her to be around me without feeling fear.”

A hard truth. “Daemon . . .”

“It’s all right, Prick. We’ll work things out.”

“I know you will.” Lucivar eased back enough to give Daemon a soft kiss on the mouth. “You’re staying here today?”

Daemon nodded. “I’ll go over to the communal eyrie and have a little chat with Lord Dillon.” He hesitated before adding, “I also have a couple of thoughts about Jillian.”

“Let’s talk about her later. You can come by the eyrie.” Lucivar stepped back. “And you can loosen the leash on the sexual heat once the children are in bed.”

“Lucivar, no.”

“Daemon, yes. Marian was so pleased that you finally trusted her enough that you could relax completely in our home. You’re not going to hurt her feelings by making her think it isn’t true.”

“I do feel comfortable in your home, but the heat . . . She’ll feel it.”

“Yes, she will. Which means you’ll come back here and take a cold shower—and Marian and I won’t get much sleep, but we’ll have a good time.”

Shock followed by a burst of laughter. “Go home. I have work to do.”

As Lucivar reached the door, he said, “See you later, Bastard.”

“That you will, Prick.”

When he reached the gate to the Queen’s part of the Keep, he brushed his fingers against the wall. “Yeah, I know. I’m a pain in the ass.”

He didn’t get an answer. But he thought he heard Witch’s silvery, velvet-coated laugh.

THIRTY-FIVE

Dillon paced the room in the communal eyrie and wondered if he’d ever see anything beyond these walls of stone. Why had he tried and tried and tried to repair a mistake if all that effort was going to end like this?

They’d brought him food and water. He’d ignored the food but drunk the water, almost hoping it was poisoned. That sounded like a more merciful end than whatever the Eyriens might be planning for him.

He didn’t know what to think when a stunningly beautiful man walked into the room, moving with predatory, feline grace.

“I’m Daemon Sadi.”

Mother Night. Dillon’s voice cracked as he said, “Prince,” and he hoped his long jacket hid his physical reaction to the sight of the man.

“My brother wants to break you into pieces,” Daemon crooned, his deep, sensual voice wrapping around Dillon like silk chains. “But I’m going to give you a chance to explain yourself.” He settled into a straight-backed wooden chair, crossed his legs at the knees, and steepled his fingers, resting the forefingers against his chin, drawing the eye to the luscious mouth and the long black-tinted nails. “One chance, Warlord, that will decide whether you live or die.”

The words—and the sudden chill in the air—snapped Dillon out of an aroused haze. Embarrassed by his response and feeling like he had nothing left to lose, he swelled with reckless anger. “What would you know about betrayal?”

“Quite a lot, actually,” Daemon replied calmly.

“A lot?” He laughed, a harsh sound, and pointed to the Black-Jeweled ring on Daemon’s right hand. “Who would dare betray you?”

“I was young once, and I didn’t always wear the Black. Tell me about Lady Blyte.”

His painful arousal and the chill in the air faded, leaving him feeling a little sick but clearheaded. He paced, trying to gather his thoughts so he would sound reasonable, rational. But feelings that he’d had to swallow for so long rose in him and demanded a voice.

“I made a mistake,” he said. “One mistake. I believed that bitch when she said she loved me. I wanted to be an escort. I wanted to serve in a court. But in order to prove I loved her, I had to walk away from the training, because she didn’t want me to be around other women, didn’t want me to have to meet someone else’s wishes above hers. When I balked at having sex, she offered me a handfast to prove our suitability. And when she found out I had told my family about the arrangement, she denied it all, said I was the seducer, did everything she could to destroy my reputation and honor. Her family’s more aristo than mine, and they backed up her story. The District Queen, who is related to her family, backed up her story. She walked away with no penalty at all, free to do it again to someone else, just like she’d done it to me.