Page 331 of The Spider Queen

“I wouldn’t know,” he said slowly. “We’re desert people. We haven’t explored the vastness of the sea. We fish in the shallow waters, but I know nothing of an island.”

Disappointment radiated through me.

“Why the question, Stella?”

I swallowed. “The final part of my journey. I have to get to an island covered in mist.”

“What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded.

“I’m bound to Lucifer against my will,” I blurted out. “The reason isn’t important. What is important is that I find a way to that island. If I can get to the island, it will break his hold on me and I’ll be free.”

It wasn’t a complete lie, but some instinct told me to guard the secret of the pearls.

King Aloysius was staring at me like he was trying to sniff out any lies or untruths. “Why should I help you, Stella?” he asked quietly. “It would serve me and my people better if we cast you out into the desert and let you find your own way. Or let Lucifer come for you. I have no desire to get involved with the Prince of Darkness.”

Jax had been correct. Altruism truly didn’t exist. I should’ve known that no one ever did anything out of the goodness of their hearts. Not even me, the empath. Sure, I could attempt to convince myself that I aided creatures that needed their burdens eased, but I did it so that I wouldn’t go insane. It wasn’t selfless motives that had had me out every night, walking the streets.

“What do you want in exchange for your help?” I asked, trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

He peered at me. “Why are you upset? You can’t really expect me to put myself, my people, in the line of danger without something in return.”

“Don’t try and rationalize what you’re doing. God forbid anybody do anything out of the kindness of their hearts.”

“No good deed—”

“Goes unpunished. Yeah. I get that.” I leaned forward. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“You. For a year.”

“I’m going to need you to explain that a little more in depth, becauseIhave an idea of what you mean, and I’m hoping—for your sake—that I’m wrong.”

“Meghan said you threw up when you walked through the market. Why?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Answer the question.”

I glared at him, contemplating answering him. Finally, I said, “I wasn’t shielded. From all the emotions.”

He nodded. “My people suffer. Have been suffering. I’d like you to stay here a year and ease their burdens.”

My gaze narrowed. “You want me here for your people?”

“I do.”

“To ease their burdens.”

“Yes.”

“And nothing else?”

“I do not make whores of women,” he stated boldly. “But clearlyhedoes. Otherwise you wouldn’t have jumped to such an erroneous conclusion.”

“Satan’s whore,” I murmured. “The title of my autobiography.”

He smiled. “Self-deprecating. I appreciate that in a woman.”

“Six months,” I countered.