"He's never hurt me. Terrify me? Definitely."
Wynn's smile was fleeting. "I don't suppose you'll put in a good - or bad - word for me."
"No," she replied firmly. "Your deal is with him. You made your choices, Wynn."
"More than fair."
Deidre. The summons was quiet. It was accompanied by a vision of her chamber. She felt compelled to go there.
"I'll come back," she said. "Will you tell me if you need something to help her?"
"Without a doubt."
Deidre left, troubled, as she returned to her room. It didn't make sense that nothing could save the girl, or that Darkyn was capable of trying to. It meant he cared. Or he was obligated. She'd learned a lot lately about how obligation held more sway in the Immortal society than truth or emotion.
Her heart quickened as she entered her room. The sight of Darkyn's lean frame was enough for her blood to heat before his piercing gaze caught hers from across the room.
I am yours.
She hated him. She needed him. She couldn't navigate through the emotions.
Deidre approached unbidden and stood before him, wishing she understood him and their bond better. His black eyes saw through her; his cold features were expressionless. He scared her, and she touched him instinctively, wanting his cool energy to help calm her emotions.
"I'm sending you somewhere," he told her.
"What? Where?"
"On an emissary mission."
Surprised, she sought some sign he was testing her or baiting her again.
"You trust me to go somewhere without making a deal you can't live with?" she asked.
"Clever," he murmured. "You want something."
"I won't make any deals this trip if you teach me how when I return."
He considered. "Two conditions. One, what I teach you can never be shared. Two, there will be no official deals between you and me. Private deals only."
"Ones that can't be enforced, in case you lose?" she challenged. "You think I'll beat you eventually?"
"Insurance," he replied mockingly.
She rolled her eyes at him and dropped her hand.
"You've gotten brave, love."
"You like a fight, don't you?"
The light in his eyes was response enough. It made her heart race.
"Deal or no?" he asked.
"Deal."
"You'll be taking a message from me to them."
"Really?" She frowned. "What's the message?"
"You are."
Gabriel. Her first thought was that he was sending her to Death as a means of torturing her or at least, nailing home the point that he had won this round with Gabriel.
The slow smile she distrusted spread across Darkyn's face. Did he know what she thought? Was it so obvious?