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None of them answered.

Fine. He’d deal with them in a moment. After coffee. He padded to the wet bar across the room, the glare of the muted television sending a spike of pain through his left eye, and turned on the coffee machine by muscle memory. Tharion shoved a cup under the nozzle and hit a button that vaguely resembled the main one.

“You really do look like shit,” Flynn drawled as Tharion inhaled the aroma of the coffee. “Ari, of course, looks gorgeous as always.”

The dragon kept her attention on her book, ignoring the Fae lord. She didn’t move a muscle, as if she wanted them to forget she was there. Like such a thing was even possible.

But Flynn focused on Tharion again. “Why didn’t you come to us for help?”

Tharion sipped his coffee, wincing at the heat that burned his mouth. “It’s too early for this conversation.”

“Bullshit,” Holstrom said. “We would have helped you. Why come here?”

Tharion couldn’t keep the snap from his voice. “Because the River Queen would have wiped you guys off the map. I didn’t want that on my conscience.”

“And this is better?” Ithan demanded.

Flynn added, “Now you’re stuck here, taking whatever she dishes out, not to mention the shit she’s offering you on the side. How could you be so fucking dumb?”

Tharion cut him a look. “You’re one to talk about doing dumb shit, Flynn.”

Flynn’s eyes flickered—a rare glimmer of the powerful Fae lord lurking beneath the casual facade. “Even I would never sell my soul to the Viper Queen, Ketos.”

Holstrom added, “There’s gotta be some way to get you out of this. You defected from the Blue Court. Who’s to say you can’t defect from—”

“Look,” Tharion said, grinding his teeth, “I know you’ve got some savior complex, Holstrom—”

“Fuck you. You’re my friend. You don’t get to ignore the danger you’re drowning in.”

Tharion couldn’t decide whether to glare at the wolf or hug him. He drank from his boiling-hot coffee again. Welcomed its sear down his throat.

Ithan said hoarsely, “We’re all that’s left. It’s only us now.”

Declan said quietly from the table, “It’s all fucked up. Ruhn, Athalar, Bryce …” Marc laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I know,” Tharion said. “And Cormac’s dead.”

“What?” Flynn spat his coffee back into his mug.

Tharion filled them in on what had gone down in the lab, and fuck—he really could have used some of that venom right now. By the time he’d finished explaining his arrangement with the Viper Queen, they were all silent again.

Until Flynn said, “Okay. Next steps: We need to get to the Depth Charger, and then to Pangera. To the Eternal City.” He nodded to Tharion. “Before we got ambushed by Sabine, we had just decided to seek you out—to bail you out of this shit, and to see if you could get us in with the mer on the ship.”

“There’s no way in Hel the Vipe lets him go,” Ari said, breaking her silence.

The males blinked at her, as if they’d indeed forgotten that a dragon sat in their midst. Marc’s mouth tightened as he realized how much she’d heard.

But Flynn asked her, brow arching, “And you’re an authority on the Vipe now?”

“I’m an authority on assholes,” Ari countered smoothly, giving Flynn a look as if to indicate that he was included on that list. “And by asking her to free him, you’ll make her cling tighter.”

“She’s right,” Tharion said. “I can try to think of a way to contact Commander Sendes—”

“No,” Ithan said. “We all go.”

“I’m touched,” Tharion said, setting his coffee down on the counter behind him. “Really. But it’s not as easy as saying I defect and walking out.”

Ithan bristled, but Sigrid appeared in the bathroom doorway, steam rippling out. She must have showered. “What would it take?”