Page 40 of Dark Chains: First Link
If they no longer needed him, he had no more bargaining power. He would remain their prisoner forever, tolerated because Annani wouldn't want to hurt Areana by executing him, but he would be living at their mercy.
To him, that was the equivalent of death, and if not for his love for Areana, he might have chosen to end it all and ask Kian to kill him or put him in stasis. But he couldn't do that to the female he loved more than anything in this ugly world, including himself.
He had to continue to plot and keep his spirits up for her.
Not that he was sure she deserved it, and not just because she was the reason he was in this bind. She'd evaded answering his questions about Annani, claiming that she hadn't seen her in days either. Supposedly, the sisters spoke daily on the phone, but the topics of their conversations were limited to grandchildren, literature, and fashion.
"Darius is learning to walk," she'd told him. "He's very determined but keeps falling on his bottom. It's adorable."
He doubted that Annani and Areana talked only about inconsequential things during their daily calls, but Areana's expression had been open and unbothered, either because she was telling the truth or because she was good at hiding things from him, which he knew she was.
After all, she'd been communicating with Annani for a long time without him suspecting a thing, and then she'd orchestrated Tula's rescue right under his nose.
Then there were his sons, the real ones, blood of his blood, who didn't want to see him either.
Not that he wanted to see them. They were traitors. Both of them. Lokan had been associating with the clan for years, a spy for the clan against his father. And Kalugal had escaped a long time ago with an entire platoon of soldiers and had disappeared.
Traitors. Both of them.
The chicken was gone. The vegetables were half-eaten. He pushed the tray away.
Gertrude returned to clear it and brought Areana with her.
His mate looked radiant. Her hair was styled differently than usual, swept up in a way that exposed her neck and made her look regal. She was wearing modern clothing, well-made and elegant, and she was stunning.
Her beauty was as blinding now as it had been the first time he'd seen her thousands of years ago. An ethereal angel with a sharp mind and cunning to equal his. No wonder he loved her so. There was no one like her in this entire world.
"You look happy," he said.
"That's because I am." She leaned over and kissed his forehead, then sat in the chair beside his bed. "The boys took me to a restaurant tonight."
His chest tightened with anger and envy.
"Lokan is over a thousand years old," he said. "I wouldn't call him a boy."
She smiled. "To me, they will always be my boys. They took me to a restaurant in Beverly Hills called Spago. Have you heard of it?"
"I've heard of Beverly Hills."
"Of course, you have. But have you been to Spago?"
He shook his head. "You know that I never leave the island. How could I have ever visited a restaurant in Beverly Hills?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes days would pass between your visits. You always said that things were hectic and that was why you stayed in the mansion, but I suspected that you were secretly sojourning away from the island."
"I wasn't. I told you the truth."
She smiled benevolently. "Not about everything."
"No," he admitted. "Not about everything."
"You would love it," she changed the subject with her usual ease. "The food was extraordinary. They bring many small courses instead of one large one for guests to taste, and each course was more beautiful than the last. One of them was a smoked salmon pizza that Kalugal said was the restaurant's signature dish. Itwas delicious." She pushed a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "The last time I ate out was back in the old country. It has been five thousand years since I dined in a restaurant."
Her eyes were bright with excitement over experiencing the world for the first time after a very long confinement. The harem had been luxurious, and she had run it with full authority, but it had still been a gilded cage.
Now she was in Los Angeles, eating at restaurants in Beverly Hills with their sons, and the wonder she brought back to this room was both a gift and a reproach.
"How are they?" he asked, because he could not help asking even though the answer always resulted in mixed feelings of pride and bitterness.
