Chapter 242: Complication
Kane’s hand rested near Mjoldr’s haft.
"I’ve been in breeding grounds before."
"Not these."
The certainty in her voice carried more weight than any raised threat.
Marisa finally reached for the thin band she had lowered and drew it back up over her breasts, though she left the robe on the floor. The gesture was not modesty.
It was the closing of one part of the negotiation.
"I will give you until tomorrow night," she said.
"Grathak will send for you by then regardless. When he does, you will already have decided whether you accept the trial with the intention of ending him, or whether you still believe you can talk a tyrant into standing beside the rest of the continent. I already know which future is more likely. I’m simply giving you the courtesy of choosing it with your eyes open."
She stood once more, still only half-dressed, and walked to the door. Her hand rested on the latch
"One more thing, barbarian. If you take the trial and win, the packs will expect you to take me publicly. Not in a quiet room. In front of them. That is how power transfers here when an emperor falls to an outsider. Decide now whether that is a price you are willing to pay."
Kane met her eyes without flinching.
"I don’t indulge the public with my cock."
Marisa’s mouth curved, small and cold.
"Nobody cares what you think. If you want to lead an empire of beasts, then you become one yourself."
"Are you that eager to fuck me?" Kane asked.
"Because we can go at it right now."
She didn’t rise to the bait. Her voice stayed even.
"I know how your mind works. Your sly words to make women submit might work on others, but not me."
"You think only my words work?"
Marisa did not reply.
She bent, picked up the discarded robe, and drew it back over her shoulders.
The thin band and wrap disappeared beneath the fabric. She pulled the hood up, shadowing the long black hair and the pull of those amber eyes, then paused at the threshold.
"Tomorrow night. Same time. I will be waiting for an answer."
She stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind her without another sound. Her footsteps faded down the stairs and were swallowed by the noise of the street.
Kane stood alone in the rented room for a long moment.
The scent of night-blooming forest and clean skin still hung in the air. The offer she had left behind sat heavier than any blade.
Kill Grathak in public.
Humiliate him so thoroughly that the packs abandoned their emperor.
Take his sister in front of them as the price of the throne.
Hold Berakamon the same way Grathak had, by strength, by spectacle, by becoming something the beasts would follow. All of it before the Supreme Devils arrived and the larger countdown ran out.
He exhaled slowly and dragged a hand down his face. Another empire. Another political marriage. Another woman who believed her body and her visions could bind him to a cause.
Kane had stopped being surprised by the pattern. He had not stopped feeling the weight of each new chain.
The door opened again before he could settle fully into the thought.
Kessa entered first, a wrapped bundle of food under one arm and a clay jug in the other.
Griselda followed, yellow eyes already scanning the room. Both of them stopped when they caught the scent.
Kessa’s ears angled forward.
"She was here."
"She was," Kane said.
Griselda closed the door and set her own package on the small table.
"Marisa?"
"Yes."
Kessa dropped the food on the bed and crossed to him, striped tail flicking once.
"What did she want?"
Kane gave them the short version: unification refused, the offer to kill Grathak, the public trial, the public claiming that would be expected afterward.
He left out the moment she had lowered the band across her breasts and the exact words about giving him her body.
Some details did not need to be shared yet.
Kessa listened with her arms crossed, expression shifting from interest to something sharper.
"She asked you to murder her own brother and then fuck her in front of the packs."
"That is the shape of it."
Griselda’s voice was quieter.
"And you answered her?"
"That I don’t perform for crowds. She was not impressed."
Kessa snorted and began unwrapping the food, roasted meat still warm, dense flatbread, a few pieces of sharp fruit that smelled of the deeper forest.
She tore a strip of meat and held it out to him.
"Eat. You look like you have been thinking too hard."
Kane took it.
The three of them ate in relative silence for a while. The street noise continued beyond the shutters. Somewhere below, the half-sheep woman was probably still frowning over the gold and the crude remark.
Somewhere higher in the settlement, Marisa was already carrying whatever report she intended to give her brother, or not.
When the worst of the hunger was gone, Kessa wiped her fingers on a cloth and looked at Kane directly.
"You are actually considering it."
It was not a question.
"I am considering the parts that get Berakamon pointed at the devils instead of at everyone else," Kane said.
"The rest is still open."
Kessa’s tail curled around her own ankle. She studied him for a longer moment, then stood and moved to the door.
She threw the bolt with a decisive click. When she turned back, her eyes had darkened.
"Griselda."
The fallen angel met her gaze, then glanced at Kane. Without a word, she rose, collected her share of the remaining food, and stepped toward the smaller cot near the wall.
She didn’t leave the room. She simply turned her back, wings folding tightly, and gave them the privacy of facing away.
Kessa walked back to Kane.
She stopped between his knees, looked down at him, and reached for the front of his trousers.