Page 19

CAMI

I gaped at the Hell Fae King. Not only did he just suggest my father might have been under my mother’s influence when he’d engaged in the deal regarding my fate, but he also seemed to think my mother might be lying about my father being dead.

And he intended to look into it— personally .

“Why?” I blurted out, cutting off whatever Melek had been about to say. “Why do you care?”

Only, he’d answered that already. He was my responsibility, and I failed him , Lucifer had said.

“Do you really think he was manipulated?” I added aloud before he could respond to my previous questions.

Because I already knew the answers.

I… I was just struggling to process them.

“Wouldn’t that mean your deal with him was already null and void?” I went on. “Or… or would that not matter? Would you punish him anyway?” Are there other innocents in his dungeon? Souls that were otherwise good?

No , I thought in the next breath. I’d felt all the creatures imprisoned in those cells. They weren’t good souls.

“But why deal with them?” I muttered out loud, more to myself than to Lucifer. Except, I actually did want that answer. “If you knew they were bad, or if you knew they were manipulated by a Virtuous Fae, why…?” I trailed off, puzzling through all of the information I’d learned today.

I wasn’t making sense. I knew that. But I… I was struggling to compare my father’s situation to the dark souls in the dungeons.

“Why didn’t I notice them before?” I wondered aloud. “I was in that dungeon a few months ago. I didn’t feel them then.”

Maybe because I hadn’t been paying attention. I’d been a little caught up in my own captivity.

Because my father signed my life away to the Hell Fae Bride Trials .

“Wouldn’t you have noticed my father’s soul?” I asked, finally looking at Lucifer.

He stared back at me with a mixture of emotions I couldn’t quite read. Amusement twinged with confusion, perhaps? I hadn’t exactly been all that eloquent.

Lucifer didn’t immediately reply, likely because he wanted to see if I had any other rambling questions to throw at him.

“I can see intentions—good and bad—in everyone around me,” he finally said, his words measured. He probably expected me to cut him off. Or maybe he was attempting to ensure a fluent response.

Regardless, it didn’t give me much.

So I held his gaze and waited for more.

“No one has a purely light soul,” he went on. “They’re mostly shades of gray. Some are just brighter than others.”

“And my father’s?” I prompted.

“Wasn’t dark,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have allowed anyone with a dark soul to engage in a deal regarding the Hell Fae Bride Trials. Only those with good intentions were allowed to offer themselves or their daughters.”

“Yet you designed your trials in a way to test the intentions of those brides,” I said, recalling what Melek had said and what I’d mostly ascertained for myself.

“Yes. Because intentions can shift at any moment, and I did what I needed to do to protect the Hell Fae Realm.” He canted his head to the side.

“One thing you need to understand, Miss De la Croix, is that no deal is equal to another. Offers vary. Goals differ. And who I negotiate with changes daily.”

I folded my arms. “But they always end the same, right? With the other person being in your debt in some way?”

“The deal itself is typically the debt,” he returned flatly. “Someone comes to me with an offer, and I tell them the price. It’s as simple as that.”

“And if they renege on that price, they’re turned into a Nightmare Fae and imprisoned as punishment.”

His eyes narrowed. “No. Only dark souls earn that fate, something you already know because you felt their intentions in that dungeon.”

My lips pursed. Because he was right—I had sensed the evil in that place. But what about the candidates like me? The ones who didn’t want to participate in the trials? “Some of your deals involve innocents,” I hedged. “Innocents like me.”

His gaze ran over me in a hot wave of interest. “ Innocent is not a term I would use to describe you, Camillia.”

I wasn’t sure if I should be insulted… or turned on. Because that glimmer in his smoldering gaze suggested he was considering a list of sensual terms, one I might like to hear. Preferably in a breath against my ear. While he…

I cleared my throat, not wanting to indulge that train of thought.

He’s the devil. He hates me. And he has a prison full of literal nightmares.

“Many types of fae come to me with offers, but there are three who are more common than most,” he told me softly, his gaze meeting mine once more.

“There are those who are desperate and willing to do or give anything in exchange for something they need. Then there are those who partake in a deal for thrill-seeking purposes. And last but not least are those who engage me for their own selfish gain. In my experience, it’s that last group who tends to fail the terms of our agreement. ”

I swallowed. “And what about my father? What group does he fall into?”

He considered that for a moment, his expression giving nothing away. “He exchanged your life for his own freedom, something I would typically consider to be selfish. But if your mother influenced him with her Virtuous Fae magic, then his situation was unique.”

“Do you evaluate someone’s soul before agreeing to a deal?” I wondered out loud, curious if he’d taken note of my father’s intentions while engaging with him.

“I evaluate objectives more than souls,” he replied and stepped around his desk to lean back against it.

His long legs stretched out before him, one ankle resting over the other as he slid his hands into the pockets of his dark slacks.

“Your father’s objective was clear—he wanted to cut ties with my Source so he could be with your mother.

I didn’t think to dig further into that need; he wasn’t the first or the last Hell Fae to make such a request.”

“Did the fae before and after him offer you the lives of their daughters, too?” I asked, unable to keep the snark from my voice.

His lips twitched. “No, Camillia. Yours was a unique case. Most of them offered a task or a service in exchange for me releasing them from the Hell Fae Source. But your father seemed to think I needed a better offer, something I’d found amusing at the time.

” He glanced away, his gaze turning thoughtful.

“In hindsight, I should have wondered why he felt such a high price was required. It’s not like my Hell Fae are prisoners. ”

I snorted. “We’re not? Because it certainly felt that way during the trials.”

“For you,” he murmured, returning his attention to me.

“Hell Fae Bridal Candidates were kept in the paradigm for observation and testing, so yes, you were a captive. But my Hell Fae—the ones with free rein through my realm—are not. Free will is something I very much value. I would never force someone to remain here who didn’t want to be here. ”

“Unless they’re a bridal candidate.”

“A different situation entirely.”

“In your mind,” I pointed out. “But not in mine.”

“Because you don’t understand my world,” he replied. “And thus far, you’ve been too closed-minded to try.”

My eyebrows flew upward. “I’m standing right here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, and throwing off an attitude that’s making my palm twitch,” he bit back. “Being here and being willing to learn are not the same concepts.”

My jaw clenched. I had no idea what he meant by the palm twitch comment, and I didn’t want to ponder that for too long. So I focused on the latter part of what he said.

“I want to learn,” I told him. “I want to understand. But I can’t ignore that a deal—one I had no say in—is why I’m here. I also can’t just forget what I felt in that dungeon or what I experienced as a bridal candidate. So if I’m giving you an attitude , it’s because you deserve said attitude .”

“Because I agreed to an offer that in the end has benefited you more than anyone else?” he asked, his eyebrow winging upward.

My teeth ground together even more as a retort taunted my tongue.

But he wasn’t done speaking.

“You’re mated to my Prince, my Commander, and my Warden.

” He pushed away from his table to come to his full height.

“You’ve been given access to the deepest depths of my realm.

You’re now standing in a sacred place, surrounded by secret agreements.

I even took you to my lair, a place no one has entered except for those inside my inner circle.

Yet you want to harp on a deal I wasn’t responsible for crafting.

A deal I would have been a fool to refuse. A deal your father offered.”

“Ty—”

“No,” he bit off, his gaze still on me. “This is on me to fix. I accept that. But we can’t move forward while these emotions simmer between us.

” He moved into my personal space, his hand suddenly on my nape.

“You’re angry with me? Fine. You want to punish me for your father’s choices?

Fine. But consider what it’s doing to your mates, Camillia.

What it’s doing to us . Because I can’t teach you if you’re unwilling to learn. ”

I glared up at him. “I’m not unwilling.” And I was really tired of him saying that. “Questioning you and your motives is a natural response to the situation, Typhos. I can’t just trust you, not after everything we’ve been through.”

“You mean won’t , Camillia. You won’t trust me.

Faith is a choice, not an inherent feeling.

I’ve wounded your faith in me. I understand that.

But we can’t change the past. We can only move into the future.

Which means either you’re going to choose to trust me, or you won’t.

That decision is yours, darling queen. Not mine. ”

Darling queen echoed in my head, overriding everything else he’d said. Because all I could hear was the word queen on his tongue. Not spoken as a noun so much as an endearment.

Why ? I wondered. Why would he call me that?