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  • The Shadow Queen(Black Jewels,Book 7)(38) by Anne Bishop
  • “Except his new Queen,” Saetan said.

    Daemon blew out a breath. “Except the new Queen.”

    “You and Jaenelle. Will you be all right this evening?”

    “We’ll be all right.”

    “Will you be all right?”

    He smiled. “Yes, Father, I’ll be all right.”

    “In that case, I’ll return to the Keep and see Theran back to Terreille.”

    They found Jaenelle—and Vae—waiting for them in the great hall. Theran joined them a minute later.

    “Thank you for your help and your hospitality,” Theran said.

    The words were properly spoken, but Daemon had the impression that Theran would have said anything if it got him out of the Hall.

    “Witch-child,” Saetan said, kissing Jaenelle’s cheek.

    Daemon felt more than saw a flash of understanding between them before Saetan shifted to him and put a hand against his face.

    A different kind of understanding, an acknowledgment that the darkest feelings that lived inside him were not unique. He’d done something with those feelings no other male had done, but he knew now that he could temper those feelings when he chose to, could soften them to be an enticement rather than a weapon.

    *Massage, not sex tonight,* Saetan said.

    Right.

    A pat on the shoulder and his father walked out the door with Grayhaven.

    *Bye, Theran!* Vae said, bouncing in some kind of tail-wagging happy dance. *Bye!*

    As soon as Beale closed the door,Vae looked at both of them. *He is male and foolish. He needs me. When he comes for the Queen, I will go live with him.*

    She trotted out of the great hall, leaving him and Jaenelle staring at the door.

    “We could make it part of the bargain,” Daemon said.

    “How so?” Jaenelle asked.

    “If he wants the Queen, he has to take the Sceltie.”

    “Oh, Hell’s fire.”

    It didn’t occur to him until much later, when he was cuddled up with Jaenelle in her bed, that Beale hadn’t thought there was anything odd about the Warlord Prince of Dhemlan and the former Queen of Ebon Askavi sitting on the floor of the great hall laughing like fools.

    CHAPTER 8

    TERREILLE

    Theran stared at the ninety-nine Warlord Princes and wished one of them would sneeze, cough, fart—anything to break the stone-hard silence.

    “That’s it,” he said. “That’s the bargain.”

    “One choice,” Ranon, the Shalador Warlord Prince, said. “And if she turns out to be a bad choice, she’ll destroy what’s left of us.”

    I know. “I don’t believe Daemon Sadi would recommend a Queen who would be a danger to us.”

  • Romance | Fantasy | Vampire