Page 44 of Dark Destiny: The Fates' Bargain

"Correct," Lokan said. "Honestly, this might be the best opening we're ever going to get. The military side is isolated from the administrative center, which is located on the resort side, cutoff by the tunnel collapse we caused. We could hit them hard right now, from the air, and not have to worry about civilian casualties."

"The Dormant enclosure is on that side of the island," Kian said.

"It's easy enough to isolate the enclosure from the strike zone. We know exactly where it is. We map the perimeter, we keep the ordnance well clear of it, and we hit the military installations hard."

"With what?" Kian asked. "We have a handful of military-grade drones. We can fly them out of Safe Harbor, which puts us within range, but a handful of drones isn't an air campaign, Lokan. And even setting that aside, my mother will never sanction killing off ten thousand immortals in a single strike. You know that as well as I do."

"I'm not talking about killing them." Lokan lifted his hands. "They are immortals. Most of them would survive a strike like that. The bombing weakens them, softening the ground enough for a real invasion force. We could walk in afterward and finish the job without the kind of losses we would have taken going in cold."

"With what force?" Kalugal asked, and there was an edge of incredulity in his voice. He reached over and patted his brother's shoulder, the gesture somewhere between affectionate and condescending. "Breathe a minute before you plan a war, brother. We don't have an invasion force. We have Guardians, some Kra-ell warriors, and a training program for exoskeleton soldiers that's maybe a third of the way to being battle-ready."

Lokan's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue the point because he knew Kalugal was right.

"We're not ready to take the island," Kian said. "Not now, maybe not for a long while yet. What we need to figure out isn't how to conquer it. It's how to keep Losham in power. Any ideas?"

"Convince Dave to go back," Onegus said.

"I would if I could." Kian let out a breath. "But I don't think there is anything we can offer them that will convince them to return." He glanced at Turner, who had been writing furiously on his yellow pad throughout the exchange with the brothers. "Do you have any suggestions?"

Turner nodded. "I have an idea that should solve Losham's problems while advancing the clan's interests at the same time."

Kian smiled. Leave it to Turner to find the one solution no one else could even imagine.

"Let's hear it, then."

18

AREANA

Areana arranged the breakfast tray on the small bistro table, the same way she used to do when she and Navuh dined together in the harem. The difference was that the small dungeon apartment didn't have a balcony overlooking an interior garden, the tiny living room could not compare to her luxurious harem quarters, and this time Navuh was the prisoner and not her.

This time, she was free to leave the prison anytime she wished and return to the penthouse with its expansive windows and magnificent views of the city.

She should have felt vindicated, glad that he was finally experiencing what he'd subjected her to for five thousand years, but all she felt was sadness and pity.

She didn't want him to be locked up down here any more than she'd wanted to be locked up herself. She wanted the five thousand years of life in the harem to disappear, and for her and Navuh to rewind history and do things differently this time.

They'd been gifted with the most precious gift of being truelove mates, but in their case, the Fates hadn't done it only as a reward for suffering, which they had both experienced a great deal of, but also as a lark. They must have known how things would turn out because they were the ones who wove the threads of destiny. They must have known that Areana and Navuh's relationship would be a perversion of the truelove mates lore.

A cosmic joke.

To stop the wave of sadness washing over her, she turned to look at the framed photograph of Darius she'd brought with her from the penthouse. There was no better cure for melancholy than the sight of that sweet, smiling face.

Her grandson was a serious little boy, but when he smiled it was like the sunshine bursting through rain clouds, or in her case, piercing through layers of earth, concrete, and self-pity over everything that could have been.

Navuh reached for the coffee cup. "You keep looking at that photograph as if that child is your salvation."

"He is." She let her smile broaden. "Just look at this adorable face. It makes me smile every time I do." She turned the frame toward him even though he stubbornly refused to look at it. "Darius looks so much like Kalugal did as a little boy. He has just a little of Jacki in him. She jokes that she was only the oven."

"Hmm." Navuh sipped on his coffee, deliberately avoiding a response.

Areana wanted to fill this tiny space of theirs with photographs of Lokan and Carol, Kalugal and Jacki, Annani and her children, but they would have to live only in her phone's photo library for now.

Darius's photograph was already testing the limits of what Navuh was willing to tolerate without his mood curdling and poisoning the whole day. After all, the point of this apartment was not just to cage Navuh but to promote his healing. Rehashing every grievance he carried against the sons he believed had betrayed him wouldn't be conducive to his recovery.

"You should eat." She waved her hand at the food she'd placed in front of him. "You'll need the energy today."

He grimaced. "I'm not looking forward to physical therapy provided by my lovely but unskilled mate."