Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

Despite this tentative new accord between us, over the next ten days, I saw less of Callum and more of his team as the Symposium inched ever closer. They put me to work on basic, menial tasks, while trying desperately to fill in the gaps in my knowledge—of the upcoming schedule, the guests who would be attending the Symposium, the state of Idrian politics, and most especially the correct way to comport myself as a part of the shapeshifter entourage.

I won’t say they were entirely successful, but I did receive an eye-opening education, along with a disturbing number of new clothes.

Mostly my uniforms were dark and unobtrusive, but also elegant, perfectly tailored, and weirdly comfortable to wear. I absolutely refused to walk around in heels on a daily basis, so after a good bit of frustrated arguing, Angelica agreed to a pair of obscenely expensive boots that I loved with an unreserved passion.

The executive assistant continued to be the Idrian version of nails on a chalkboard—though extremely efficient and capable—while Magnus seemed determined not to possess a personality, and Heather hovered behind them both in a near permanent state of apologetic anxiety. We ended up working together quite a few times, and I started to feel a little bad for her—she was so nervous that she tended to drop things and forget details, but she was kind to me, always offered to bring me coffee, and even complimented my outfits, despite the fact that they looked nearly identical every day.

The renovations on The Assemblage continued, and by the end of the first week, began to look nearly complete. Round the clock security guards had prevented any further sabotage, though the mustached human officer—whose name, I discovered, was Kevin—still appeared utterly convinced that I was guilty of something, and glared at me with unreserved suspicion every time our eyes met.

Typically, I stuck to smiling smugly and waving my badge as I walked by each day on my way to the team office, but eventually, I decided the situation required more of a plan.

On Wednesday morning, all of us were called into work early. The first delegates had begun to arrive, and it was all hands on deck to ensure that everything was ready for them.

I made sure to get there even earlier and pounced on Heather before she could carry everyone’s coffee inside. She probably thought I was crazy, but handed me my cup without argument. I thanked her, and carried it around to the main entrance where Kevin stood, huddled in his jacket, mustache bristling fiercely.

The mornings had grown crisp and cold, so it had to be unpleasant to stand out there for hours.

“Good morning,” I called cheerfully, strolling up with my hands wrapped around the paper cup in its cardboard sleeve. “Chilly out here, isn’t it? I don’t suppose you’d like some coffee?”

He would. I saw his eyes dart to the cup, but they darted back as he scowled at me. “Petty bribery is an insult to my profession,” he announced sternly. “ID badge please, Miss.”

“Of course,” I responded pleasantly, pulling out my badge and showing it to him. “And it’s not a bribe. It’s for you.” I held it out alongside my badge.

He glanced from one to the other, trying to find the trick.

“Oh, ouch, it’s kind of hot…” I released my grip just a little and he instinctively reached out to take the cup from me.

I smiled sweetly. “Enjoy.”

And then I hurried inside to watch the fun through the window.

Sure enough, he stood there for a few minutes, just holding the cup, alternating between glaring at it and looking around as if afraid someone might be watching. He would shift it from hand to hand as if warming them up, then look annoyed at himself.

Eventually, he pried off the lid and took a cautious sniff of the contents. Put the lid back on. Lowered the cup, then lifted it to eye level.

“Care to tell me exactly what’s so fascinating about watching our security guard drink coffee?”

I jumped a mile in the air and whirled around to face my boss.

I hadn’t seen much of him in the last week—he’d been working what seemed like sixteen hours a day between meetings and phone calls—and I’d almost begun to wonder whether he was deliberately avoiding me.

“Please tell me you didn’t do something to that cup.” Callum eyed me with a hint of suspicion.

“Nope,” I replied, trying to ignore the giddy feeling of relief that bubbled up at the sound of his voice. “But he definitely thinks I did.” I grinned, and the expression was probably a little evil. “He always looks at me like I’m about to blow the place up, so I decided to do something kind in return.”

“You mean you decided to give our security officer an aneurism?” Callum raised an eyebrow and folded his arms. “I take it my staff has failed to keep you sufficiently busy this week.”

I glanced out the window, just as Kevin took a tentative sip from the cup. His face relaxed, and I sighed as I realized my fun was over.

“I promise I’ve been busy. Just not quite as busy as you.” Oops. Hopefully, my tone hadn’t betrayed the fact that I’d actually… missed him. What a weird thought.

“I’m afraid it’s about to get worse,” Callum informed me, beckoning towards the stairs with a jerk of his head. There was now a working elevator in the building, but none of us ever used it as it moved slower than a sloth crossing a road, so I bit back my groans and followed him all the way to the team office on the fifth floor.

We entered together, which proved to be unfortunate timing, as Angelica promptly shoved a stack of papers at me with a chilly stare of disapproval.

“Raine, I already told you the answer is no,” she said severely. “I cannot approve a paycheck advance for anyone who has been employed for less than a year. Particularly after you’ve already benefited so… significantly from the generosity of the shapeshifter court.” She eyed my outfit from head to toe, just to be certain that I understood.

I did. But I was also just a teeny bit annoyed that Callum was present to witness the rejection of my petition.

It wasn’t that I was ungrateful. I didn’t like to admit it, but the new uniform made me feel less defensive. It might look like a plain white button-down shirt under a simple suit jacket and dark, tailored pants, but the material was both durable and soft, and each piece fit me perfectly, showing off muscles I’d earned the hard way. I couldn’t begin to imagine what they’d cost, or how they’d been acquired so quickly.

I even understood the reason for the policy. But we’d been living on the same packaged meals for almost two weeks now. The kids needed clean clothes and better food, and I was willing to fight for them.

Yes, they were safe, they were warm, and they weren’t going hungry. But eventually I had to get them out of that hostel. We were going to have our own place, where the kids could play outside. Maybe even a car that wasn’t stolen.

But first…

“Can you at least tell me when I should expect to be paid, and how much?” I didn’t love sounding so mercenary, and especially not in front of Callum, but when you have nothing, those questions matter.

“Pay her in cash for this week.” Callum’s tone left no room for compromise, and I felt myself flush with humiliation. Not because of what he said, but because… I didn’t like asking him for favors. I wanted him to see me as more than a helpless dependent, even if that’s what I was. Even if none of my potential reasons made sense.

“But her salary…”

“I emailed you.”

Angelica’s face froze, and she nodded with icy precision. “Will there be anything else?” she asked coolly.

I turned to face my boss and managed to hold on to my neutral expression as I waited for him to answer. While also surveying him and wondering what was different…

He was still wearing black, but this morning it took the form of a tailored suit, which somehow looked both incredibly perfect and a little bit wrong—like playing dress-up with a tiger. That suit was trying very hard to conceal the claws of the predator underneath and completely failing.

“I’m just here to pick up Raine.”

I tried to respond to that news with a professional and businesslike demeanor, rather than betraying how pathetically grateful I was to be getting out of the office.

“Where are we going?”

I must have failed, because Callum quirked an eyebrow at me in response.

“I’m headed out to greet the early arrivals in person this morning. It’s as good a time as any for them to start feeling nervous about who you are and why I’ve hired you.”

I could sense a looming storm of frustration behind those words. “Still nothing on the shapeshifters?” I’d been studiously avoiding Faris and The Portal, so I hadn’t heard any news on how the investigation was proceeding.

He shook his head. “No one is missing. Nothing has been reported. And no matter how many times we sweep the basement, there’s nothing out of place. No traces of magic, no unfamiliar scents.”

“So whoever was down there was either someone you know, or they were able to cover their tracks completely.”

Which was worrying. How could someone powerful enough to slaughter two shapeshifters simply come and go at will without leaving a trace?

Who else would they be able to get close to? And what were their goals?

It seemed likely that the murderer was connected to our attackers and wanted to silence them before they could be questioned. But what were they afraid we might learn? It was obvious they wanted to stop the Symposium. But why? Who stood to gain the most from its disruption?

“And that’s another reason why you’re coming with me,” Callum said, still looking at me, even though his words were clearly meant for Angelica. “Another set of eyes to watch for an ambush. And now that we know you can use ice to counter fae magic, I want your defensive abilities at my back.”

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. Yes, I knew that was why he’d hired me. But this was the first time it was going to be for real. The two previous times, I’d simply reacted, but now I had to remain alert. Be able to see threats and respond appropriately.

Angelica started slamming things around on her desk just a little too pointedly. I knew she still disapproved of my hiring. She wanted Callum to have an entire team of shapeshifters to watch his back, but he’d vetoed it. Said he didn’t want to appear as if he were feeling threatened, or making any threats.

Which was why he planned to introduce me to everyone as one of his assistants, rather than a bodyguard.

As I followed him down the stairs, I tried to sort through the whirling mass of information that had been stuffed into my head over the last ten days. Names, faces, history, rules… There was a solid chance I wasn’t going to remember any of it. That I was going to mess up pretending to be his assistant, let alone acting as his bodyguard.

“Just to remind you,” I pointed out, aiming my remarks at the back of Callum’s head, “I’ve never actually been an assistant or a bodyguard before, so I don’t really know what I’m doing. You do remember that, right?”

The shapeshifter king glanced back over his shoulder as we reached the foot of the stairs. “I am aware, yes,” he responded dryly.

“So you also know that I might do or say the wrong thing and accidentally cause a diplomatic incident.”

“All you have to do is stand a little behind me while looking competent and mysterious. If I tell you to write something down, you make a note in your phone. If anyone attacks physically or magically, you deal with them, and I’ll deal with everything else.” And then he shrugged, as if this ought to be the simplest thing in the world.

“No problem, Your Majesty,” I muttered. Never mind that I didn’t have a phone to take any notes with. How had he somehow managed to overlook that fact? “And how is it you would prefer for me to ‘deal’ with them?”

“However you see fit.” His eyes were hard, the line of his shoulders rigid. “Raine, anyone who attacks us today will be doing so in a very public way, with clear knowledge of who they are attacking. They won’t be unaware of the potential consequences.”

Right. Not terrifying at all.

I took a deep breath and reminded myself of all the reasons I was doing this. Yes, I might have to use this magic I didn’t want. Yes, I was probably going to end up putting myself in danger. But if it would make this world safer for other people like me and Ari and Logan? It would be worth it.

“Understood.”

After those warnings, the blood was already humming in my veins as I followed the shifter king out the main doors, and stepped towards the black SUV waiting on the curb.

So like, and yet unlike the moment I’d first seen him.

When we reached the curb, I paused briefly, unsure of the correct protocol. Did he ride in the back and me in the front? Did we open our own doors?

Callum saw my hesitation and stepped into the gap, opening the rear door and gesturing me forward.

I reared back and held up both hands, palm out. “I’m pretty sure that’s my job,” I told him. “Kings don’t open doors for their assistants.”

He glowered at me, a looming suggestion of threat wrapped in darkness, lit only by the spark in those amber eyes. One hand still gripped the edge of the door, and I saw his fingers clench as his head tilted to regard me. Despite the tamed and styled auburn hair and the clean-shaven jaw, he still managed to look predatory—a perfectly groomed dragon, hiding his teeth behind civilized urbanity.

“Don’t call me that,” he growled.

“It’s what you are.”

“But not because I ever wanted to be treated like one.”

That much I believed about Callum-ro-Deverin. It hadn’t taken long to figure out that formality and fawning made him desperately uncomfortable. He was king because he could do the job, and because he would do it. Protecting others was in his blood.

“Fine,” I agreed, “but while we’re in public, we should at least observe the formalities. Otherwise, no one is going to believe you when you tell them who I am.”

His expression shifted, and he looked down at me with a slight quirk at the corner of his mouth.

“And what is it that they’re going to think if they see me opening your door?”

It took me a little over half a second to catch his meaning. About half a second more for me to drop my gaze to the sidewalk as a horrified blush heated my face.

“That both my hands are broken?” I suggested, baring my teeth in a parody of a smile.

“Or maybe that you’re just really bad at your job?” It was hard to be annoyed when I could hear a hint of genuine humor in his tone.

So I shrugged. “I did warn you.”

“You did.”

I finally glanced up. He looked a little amused, but also just a little bit exasperated.

“Get in the car, Kendrick.”

I decided to let the dragon win before he ate me.

It was only a short drive to The Skirvin—the iconic luxury hotel where most of the delegates were staying—and I spent most of it worrying about messing up the upholstery of Callum’s absurdly fancy SUV. There were only two seats in the back, plus fold-away desks, a retractable tv screen, a refrigerator, and a privacy barrier between the passengers and the driver.

Part of me felt like I should be sitting up front with the rest of the hired help, but at least the windows were dark enough that no one could see me breaking the rules.

This time, when the driver pulled up to the curb, I bolted out of my seat first and opened the door. Callum shot me an amused look as he stepped out, but didn’t argue, merely straightened his suit jacket and strode through the dark framed entryway into the building.

The lobby area featured tall ceilings and gorgeous wood paneling, with black and white tiled floors and terra-cotta red accents. Comfortable couches and potted palms formed a deceptively casual seating area across from the front desk, with its polished wood and black granite desktop.

After a quick word with a uniformed staff member, we stepped from the lobby into the aptly named Red Piano Lounge, where a bright red grand piano stood in the corner. Wood floors and brown leather couches completed the look of historic western elegance, but it was not the decor that caught my attention.

It was the man standing beside the bar.

Or rather, the fae.

It was the same fae I’d seen in the park the week before. The one who’d recognized Kes, and the one she was so desperate not to see again.

Prince Rath. Son of Dathair and Elayara. Once he’d stood within inches of being king, and now he waited. No one knew when or whether Dathair would step down again, and I could only wonder what sort of bitterness that might breed in the heart of an ambitious young royal.

In addition to the facts I’d learned about him as a part of my education, Kes had told me that he was fierce and dangerous, and an accomplished actor. He’d spent years convincing the court that he was soft and harmless, even though this present version of him looked anything but.

He’d chosen to forego glamour yet again, and up close, his scars were even more evident. Those four lines must have nearly taken his sight, and perhaps not for lack of trying. His ears, too, no longer had the elegant tapered points of a full fae, but appeared to have been cut off and reshaped into the slight points of a half fae, like Kes’s. Curiously, the austere, close-cut white hair only emphasized the evidence of violence—as if on purpose.

Why, I wondered, had his father decided he wasn’t ready to take the crown? Did he believe his younger son was untrained or incompetent? Or was it something altogether more sinister? And why, in a place where most Idrians concealed themselves through glamour, did Prince Rath choose to appear without it?

Also, what had he been doing here, in Oklahoma City, more than ten days before the Symposium was set to begin?

“Rath.” Callum stepped towards him, and as I watched, his shoulders seemed to relax. Something about the rigid set of his jaw eased, and a genuine almost-smile crossed his face. “Glad you were able to make it.”

I suppose that might explain what Rath was doing here. These two were friends?

“I, and the remainder of the fae delegation, are pleased to accept the hospitality of the Shadow Court,” Rath said, offering the barest of smiles in return, along with a slight tilt of his head.

He accepted a drink from the bartender and gestured towards one of the tables. “Would you care to sit? Can I order you a drink?”

“No, thank you. I’ve never cared for alcohol.”

Rath shrugged. “Human liquors are never as complex or effective as our own, but they have their charms.”

They took a seat across from one another at a small, round table. Rath sat first, with his back to the wall, which left Callum’s back exposed. I didn’t like it, and there was nowhere for me to hover unobtrusively, so I simply stood behind his chair and tried to imitate what I’d seen from bodyguards in movies—rigid spine paired with a blank, stoic expression.

Since I was neither a dragon nor a large, muscular, male human, the effect was probably not very intimidating.

The fae prince took a sip of his drink before setting it down and regarding me with a slightly raised brow.

“And who is your charming companion?” he inquired of Callum. “I can’t tell whether I’m meant to be intimidated, curious, or amused.”

I shifted my gaze to meet his. Gray eyes, sharp and measuring. The pain I’d glimpsed before was buried now, leaving only the razor edge of a keen mind that had been playing political games probably before he could walk.

The scars did nothing to diminish the masculine beauty of that face, with its high cheekbones, firm jawline, and expressive lips. All without the need for glamour. Perhaps he wanted to be seen. Wanted everyone to be reminded of who he was and what he’d survived.

As our eyes locked, I watched for any sign that he recognized me. Any hint that he recalled that moment in Myriad Gardens.

I saw none, but it did little to ease my worries. Anyone who had grown up with Elayara would have learned to hide his feelings without a trace.

“If even you can’t decide how to react to a mere assistant,” Callum replied smoothly, “neither can anyone else.”

“I take it that’s the point?”

Callum said nothing, but Rath offered him a slight smirk.

“Subtlety has never exactly been your calling card,” he noted. “This new facet to your royal personality is going to make a few of my fellow delegates rather nervous.”

“Hmmm.”

“But beware of overplaying the mystery,” Rath continued. “It may be assumed that you are in over your head, juggling red herrings without a clear direction.”

“If anyone would know about overplaying a mystery, it’s you,” Callum said, his dry tone drawing a sharp, almost vicious smile from the fae prince.

“Why, Your Majesty, I’m so pleased that you’ve noticed,” he said smoothly, taking another sip of his drink.

“So should I gather that this is what we can expect for the duration of the Symposium? Embittered heir with a savage sense of humor?”

Rath seemed entirely unbothered by that characterization. “Isn’t that what everyone expects me to be? I would so hate to disappoint.”

Callum regarded him thoughtfully. “Kira will be pleased to see you.”

The prince’s expression did shift then, softening into something gentler. Almost warm.

“Will she?” he murmured. “Why do I get the feeling that I only make her sad these days?”

So he had not been spending time with the dragon siblings. Had they even known he was in town? And if not, why had he kept his presence a secret?

Unfortunately, asking Callum about it might lead to awkward questions about my own past, and I wasn’t sure it was worth the risk. I was just going to have to keep a close eye on the fae heir in case he harbored some nefarious secret agenda.

Callum leaned back in his chair. “So who did you bring with you?”

“Oh, the usual selection of vipers.” Rath waved a hand, as if dismissing the lot of them at one go. “They pretend to respect my opinions, but they are forever pushing their limits. Hoping to discover why my father doesn’t trust me. Wondering whether they can get me disinherited entirely if they play the game well enough.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

Rath’s smile was sharp and glittering. “A mere afternoon’s diversion among the fae, I assure you. Exhausting would be having to constantly growl and posture to keep my people in line.”

“Trust a fae to make honest conflict sound uncivilized,” Callum noted with an ill-concealed grimace. “I would prefer open combat and resolution to dancing around enemies and traitors forever.”

“Yes, well.” Rath shrugged elaborately. “You’re a dragon. Everything changes when they know you can eat them.”

Three women strolled through the entrance to the lounge, looked around, spotted our group, and headed our way. They appeared human, but I judged from their expressions that they recognized my companions, which meant they could well be wearing glamour. Wildkin or fae? Or perhaps elemental?

“Well, look what the dragon dragged in.” The shortest of the three was eyeing Rath, but with wary respect more than admiration. “Pleased to see you here, Vinrath Elduvar.”

“Marilee.” Rath did not rise to greet the tiny blonde woman, but he did offer her a cordial nod. “I heard you’d been summoned back to court. Are you here as a delegate?”

She let out a theatrical groan that sounded oddly genuine despite her perfectly poised and polished exterior. “Unfortunately. Dad used my experience with the Shadow Court to get me nominated. He’s terribly proud that a naiad was chosen, so it wasn’t like I could back out.” Her eyes rolled in annoyance. “I told him if he wanted that honor for the naiads so badly, he could do it himself, because frankly I have zero interest in politics or looking after wildkin interests. But…” She stepped closer and looked over her shoulder before continuing. “If you ask me, he just didn’t want to deal with Leith.”

So this was Marilee Springvale. Daughter of the naiad chief and former employee of The Portal. In her unglamoured form, she would have blue skin, nearly transparent hair, and enormous dark eyes. Naiads were most at home around water, and could live in it as easily as above it, but today she looked like an ordinary—though unmistakably wealthy and gorgeous—human woman, with her sleek updo and sparkling blue eyes.

“So it’s true?” Callum was asking. “Leith is coming in person?”

Marilee nodded confirmation. “Whether you trust him or not, he’s managed to gain enough support among the varying factions. Everyone feels he has the best chance of ensuring that our disparate needs are not forgotten.”

The wildkin court, I’d learned, was made up of eight separate races, all of them smaller in number and therefore less influential than the fae, elementals, or shapeshifters. For political purposes, they’d banded together under the leadership of Leith, a siren who many said had come by his position through unsavory uses of his power.

Callum made a dismissive sound. “That’s true enough. But if he tries anything at the Symposium, I’ll have him thrown out.”

Marilee raised an eyebrow at him. “Bold words. You know Faris won’t tolerate any anti-siren prejudice.”

“I’m not anti-siren,” Callum corrected her with a frown. “I’m anti anyone who uses their power to deliberately manipulate or control others.”

I’d only learned about sirens in the past few days, and only thanks to some clandestine searches after Leith had come up during conversation. What I’d learned had provided more questions than answers, along with a healthy dose of trepidation.

Apparently, they were able to manipulate others with their voices. Convince people to do things. Get answers to questions without the other person realizing they’d revealed secrets, that sort of thing. It was believed—by online sources at least—that most sirens would never use their power in that way. They were said to have strict principles that only permitted them to use their magic in self defense. But despite this, many older Idrians maintained a deep-seated prejudice against them.

Personally, for numerous reasons of my own, I was anxious to meet this Leith.

“Who’s your new friend?” One of the two ladies flanking Marilee—a curvy, middle-aged woman with dark hair and suspicious dark eyes—had been looking me up and down since the moment she entered the lounge. “Don’t tell me you’ve gone and hired a human?”

“This is Raine,” Callum said flatly. “She is a part of my staff, and will be serving as one of my assistants during the Symposium.”

The woman seemed considerably taken aback by that chilly reception, but none of the three newcomers were as smooth as Rath at hiding their reactions.

They were dying of curiosity.

“A new assistant?” Marilee glanced at me, then back at Callum. “But she’s not a shapeshifter. Why would you hire someone outside your own court?”

“Raine has specific abilities that I require,” Callum returned evenly. “Her affiliation and why I hired her are not anyone else’s concern.”

And with that, every particle of their attention honed in on me like sharks scenting blood in the water.

“You’re expecting something to happen,” Marilee said softly. “So you’ve pulled in extra security.” There was no judgment in her tone, only speculation.

“I did not say that.” Callum’s expression was as bland as his choice of words. “And I’ve already made it clear that there will be no violence permitted at this gathering.”

I saw the naiad’s eyes narrow, then caught the edge of a smirk from Rath.

Speaking of delegates and violence… That was the moment Talia chose to stride into the lounge like nearly seven feet of thundercloud in human form. Seriously, was every single attendee staying at this one hotel?

Talia, at least, pointedly ignored us, choosing to seat herself by the window and gesture to the bartender like the queen she was. A pair of dark-suited flunkies followed her, and from the looks they gave me as they passed, their queen had not been entirely reticent on the matter of our last meeting.

I had no doubt that if they managed to corner me in a dark alley someday, vengeance for their queen’s humiliation would be at the forefront of their minds.

Unfortunately, their pointed stares drew attention from both Rath and Marilee.

“Had a run-in with Talia, have you?” the fae prince murmured conversationally to Callum. “Please tell me you’re willing to gossip about it. I’ll be so much less bored if there is tea to be shared.”

“That matter is between Raine and Talia,” Callum informed him, appearing sublimely unconcerned. “I don’t believe there will be any need to revisit it during the Symposium, but if the matter does arise, you can be sure it will be dealt with in the same manner as before.”

On the outside, I somehow maintained a bland facade, but on the inside, I was growing increasingly annoyed by his behavior. I’d thought the point was for me to fly under the radar, but he couldn’t be making me sound more sinister if he tried.

It was another half hour before Callum finished making nice and greeting the various persons to enter the lounge. It appeared the Skirvin was indeed the hotel of choice for the majority of delegates, and all of them seemed aware that we were in attendance. Leith never did make an appearance, but he was one of only a small handful of delegates to miss the unofficial meet and greet.

We were back in the SUV, pulling away from the curb before I finally turned to Callum and unleashed the past hour’s worth of frustration and dismay. Thankfully, the privacy screen was closed, so the driver was unlikely to overhear my blatant insubordination.

“Exactly what did you think you were doing back there?” I demanded. “Are you trying to get me dead?”

Callum’s expression didn’t so much as twitch. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You pretend to be blunt and bad at politics. You’ve got them all believing that you’re nothing but roar first and ask questions later. But you spent the entire past hour ensuring that every single delegation will be focused more on me than on you. First by not responding to the allegation that I’m human, and second by refusing to identify me or the reasons for my hiring. Now they all think I’m mysterious and dangerous and are wondering what a dragon needs with an unidentified assassin!”

“And?” Callum’s expression remained maddeningly unreadable. “Your complaint is?”

“You didn’t hire me as a bodyguard at all, did you?” I accused. “You let me believe that you needed me, needed my power to scare Talia and the others, but that’s not it. That was never it.”

His head tilted, and his brows rose fractionally. “If you’re not a bodyguard, then what are you?”

“A distraction.”

I saw his surprise. Saw the light of wary respect bloom behind that piercing gaze.

“And if I said that you’re correct? Does that frighten you?”

Yes. He’d claimed he wanted to protect me, but he was making me a target, and he was doing it on purpose. I needed to know why, but I wasn’t willing to betray that much vulnerability with him just yet. Not until I reassessed just how much I could trust him.

“It disappoints me,” I said bluntly. “You made me think we were on the same side. We can’t be allies if you’re just planning to use me to get something you want.”

“You act like these things are mutually exclusive,” Callum pointed out. “They aren’t. Yes, I hired you to be my bodyguard. I wasn’t lying about needing someone to watch my back. But as a part of that job, I’ve also chosen to deploy you as a distraction for those with ulterior motives.”

“You’ve painted a target on my back! All but declared open season for them to figure out who and what I am!”

“A bodyguard is already a target,” he reminded me. “But often that’s all they are. Someone to be eliminated along the path to the real goal. But because we haven’t explicitly identified you as such, now they’re curious about you. You’ve become more than a suit, more than a weapon. Someone they have to account for and add into their calculations. Someone who cannot simply disappear without consequences.”

He was trying to make it sound altruistic. “You’re going to pretend you did this to protect me?” I couldn’t even begin to hide my skepticism.

Suddenly his expression softened, and the shapeshifter king subsided, leaving only Callum. Somehow, I was learning to tell the difference.

“I was born into this world,” he reminded me. “Whether I like it or not, it’s shaped my entire life. True, I avoid the political games as much as I can, but not because I don’t know how to survive them.” He held my gaze and refused to flinch. “I promised I wouldn’t let them hurt you, and it’s a promise I intend to keep, even if you don’t always like my methods. Can you grant me some degree of trust for these next few days—trust that I know what I’m doing and that I keep my word?”

At least he was asking, rather than trying to intimidate me into cooperating. And as I searched his face, looking for answers, a part of me wanted very much to say yes. Yes, I can trust you. Yes, I will choose to believe in you.

I’d seen the way he cared for his sister. The way that he cared about protecting the powerless. Even the way he’d chosen to care for a helpless kitten instead of leaving it to its fate. I knew that his heart was so much bigger than he allowed most people around him to see.

But the larger part of me was still unsure. Unwilling to risk trusting too easily, too soon. How could I allow myself to forget not only who he was, but what he represented? Much as I wanted to, it might never be safe for me to trust Callum-ro-Deverin.

“I’ll try,” I said, and if it wasn’t the whole truth, it was as close as I could get without revealing too much. “I do believe in your promise not to intentionally hurt me or those that I love. But any more than that… You’re asking me to surrender control of my future and my safety, and that’s something I may never be able to do again.”

“Understood.” Callum’s jaw clenched and his lips pressed together. “But know that it changes nothing for me.”

A rather awkward silence descended, until he pulled out his phone and texted a brief message. A few moments later, the SUV changed lanes and took a right turn, heading away from his headquarters and The Portal.

“Where are we going next?”

“I think we need to pay a visit to one more delegate today.”

Anticipation warred with nerves as I realized who he meant.

“Leith.”

Callum nodded. “I should warn you…”

The SUV lurched to a sudden stop with a sound of crunching, grinding metal, lifting momentarily off its rear wheels before slamming to the ground. I’d been turned to look at Callum, so I was thrown sideways, wrenching my neck painfully. I slammed back into my seat, just as a cloud of steam—probably from a cracked radiator—billowed past the windows.

For one brief, panicky instant, I smelled gasoline.

Then, before I could even cry out a warning, the car lurched again, and a moment later was completely engulfed in flames.