Page 107 of The Prince of Power

A chill runs down my spine. My dad has never told me the precise reason he sent me to spend my summers with the Sacred Light. As I got older, I assumed it was because he’d hoped the Sacred Light would favor me enough to make me prior someday.

But this sounds like something else… An even bigger scheme.

“All that time with Damian…” My dad taps his fingers against the arm of his chair. “It probably made him feel like a father.”

A slow, cold pulse moves through me, but then it morphs into something else. Something hot and bright.

This is intelligence I’m being given right now.

I can use it.

Gabriel nods. “Damian ought to foster that connection. Get close to him. When he’s prior, he’ll have plenty of opportunity.”

I force a yawn. “Opportunity for what, exactly?”

My dad and Gabriel exchange a glance. A silent conversation I’m not yet privy to.

It doesn’t even matter. I don’t need specifics. The fact that they’re plotting something together is obvious. Stupid. Attempting to overthrow our head lawmaker will most likely end in their executions.

I take a big sip of whiskey, enjoying the burn as it makes its way down my throat. “Let me ask it a different way… What’s in it for me?”

My dad’s smile is cold. “We haven’t asked you to do anything but nurture a friendship. And—” his jaw ticks “—to hear is to obey.”

I nod once. Those words used to make my skin crawl. But tonight, they settle into me like a revelation. He’s just given me exactly what I needed—what I’ve been starving for since Kane laid a hand on Ava.

Leverage.

I’m going to turn my own father in.

33

Ava

We left Jackson Hole half an hour ago. Last night, Lucas told us we’d be sleeping in separate bedrooms, his tone sharp with authority. Damian didn’t even flinch. He looked his father straight in the eye and said, “No. Ava’s staying in my room. On the floor.”

I’m pretty sure it had something to do with the virgin sacrifice—some subtle way of hinting he didn’t trust Gabriel. It clearly annoyed his father.

What surprised me most is how easily Damian defied both of them. How little he seems to fear them.

I hope he’s not being reckless.

I sit back in the buttery leather seat as the clouds drift past the narrow window. Damian’s staring at me. Again.

I can feel it. It’s a heat at the base of my neck, a buzz that runs down my spine. When I finally look over at him, his mouth curves into a slow, dark smile.

“You’re in a good mood,” I say.

He leans back like a king, stretching his arms over the seats beside him. “I’m in a very good mood.”

That possessive gaze roams over me once again. “We won’t have to worry about my dad or Gabriel ever again. I’m going to keep you. Forever.”

I ought to be alarmed by the wildness in his whispered voice, but I’ve grown accustomed to Damian’s intensity. I almost like it now. More than like it.

He’s deeply flawed. Commanding. Ruthless. Possessive in a way that should set off every internal alarm. And yet…I’ve seen how he carries his pain. How he uses arrogance to mask wounds that never fully healed.

This man has been failed by everyone in his life who was supposed to protect him. His father used him as a tool. His mother, I suspect, looked the other way. Lucy loves him, but I don’t think she really knows him. And the one person who Damian has claimed to love—the mysterious man who read to him when he was sick—only took care of him in order to get something from him later.

Damian needs to be loved. Loved without conditions. He needs it more than anyone I’ve ever known.

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