I glared at the back of his head, but I no longer tried to argue. He’d painted a clear enough picture. Yes, perhaps I had nowhere else to go at present. Perhaps my brethren would kill me if they found me. Perhaps I did need these witches—to reverse the hex on my mind, to ensure Célie and the crown prince survived. But Jean Luc had been wrong about one thing: I could survive alone. I’d been unprepared before. It wouldn’t happen again.

And I would kill Lou and Coco at the first opportunity.

The Wager

Lou

Coco allowed me to wallow in misery for approximately three minutes—hugging me all the while—before pulling back and wiping my tears. “He isn’t dead, you know.”

“He loathes me.”

She shrugged and rifled through her bag, extracting a bottle of honey. “I seem to remember him loathing you once before. You both rose to the occasion.” She combined the amber liquid with blood from her forearm before swabbing the mixture over the wound at my chest. She turned to examine Beau’s injuries next. “We might as well be comfortable while we wait.”

“Wait for what?” Beau asked mulishly. Sporting a terrific shiner from Reid’s ministrations, he swallowed the blood and honey. The swelling disappeared almost instantly.

“For Reid to crawl back with his tail between his legs. It shouldn’t take long.” She shooed him down the beach. “Now go find some driftwood for a fire. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

“Why?” Though Beau complied, snatching up a stick by our feet, he glanced around nervously. “Shouldn’t we leave? Morgane could be lurking out of sight.”

“I doubt it,” Coco murmured, “if she doesn’t remember Lou.”

I jerked my sleeve back in place.

“Here.” Célie smiled faintly, reaching into her own bag. She withdrew a needle and thread. “Let me help with that.” I frowned as her delicate fingers threaded the eye, as she slowly, carefully reaffixed the fabric.

“We’ll leave as soon as Reid returns.” Coco walked to the path to gather rocks for a firepit. “If we go before, he might not find us again. We’ll need him to help steal the ring before we can return to Cesarine.” With an inscrutable look in my direction, she added, “That is the plan, isn’t it? To rejoin Claud and Blaise with the melusines? Plot a final strike against Morgane? Rescue Madame Labelle from the stake?”

“More or less.”

Beau scowled when she snatched his stick, speaking in an aggrieved whisper. “On that note, how on earth are we supposed to steal the ring? Chateau le Blanc is a fortress, and again—Morgane could be hiding behind that rock even now, listening to our every word.”

“Again, without Lou in the picture, Morgane could be rallying forces to kill your father as we speak,” Coco said pointedly. “Zenna said witches have been gathering at Chateau le Blanc en masse. I doubt they’re braiding each other’s hair. Perhaps they’ve already marched toward Cesarine. It’d certainly make our job easier.”

“And if not? Couldn’t we just . . . dispatch Morgane at the Chateau?”

“Like we could’ve dispatched her on the beach?” I watched as Célie moved to the gash at my chest. Though the fabric was still wet from my blood—from Coco’s blood and honey—she didn’t seem to mind. I, however, struggled to remain still. To remain calm. “It worked out so well for us the first time. I’m sure it’ll be even simpler surrounded by witches en masse.” To Coco, I said, “Why didn’t we think of that?”

She shrugged. “Who needs gods and dragons, werewolves and mermaids, when we could’ve just done it ourselves the whole time?”

“Yes, all right.” Beau scowled at each of us, stalking down the beach, as Célie finished mending my shirt. “It was just a thought.”

He returned a few moments later with an armful of driftwood, dumping it at Coco’s feet. She promptly scowled and stacked the pieces into a square. “Genuinely, how have you survived this long, Beauregard?”

“Here.” I snapped my fingers, magicking the friction between them to the point of pain. The golden pattern vanished as a flame sparked. Delicious heat washed over me, a welcome reprieve to the icy cold in my chest. I glanced to the path instinctively.

He’ll come back.

“Lou.” As if reading my thoughts, Coco turned my chin with a single finger. “You forgot to include one key component in our plan: seducing Reid.” She smirked at my deadpan expression. “Fortunately you happen to know a master in the art of seduction. Don’t worry, Célie,” she added, winking. “I’ll teach you in the process as well. Think of it as your first lesson in debauchment.”

My heart sank miserably, and I shook my head. “We have more important things to worry about. Besides,” I added, loathing the note of bitterness in my voice. “It won’t work. Not this time.”

“I don’t see why not. He fell in love with you before.” She dropped her hand. “And I would argue it’s the most important thing.”

“He didn’t know I was a witch then. He thought I was his wife.”

“Nuance. Your souls are bound. Magic can’t change that.”

“You can’t really believe in soul mates?”

“I believe in you.” At my incredulous look, she shrugged again, watching the flames crackle. “And perhaps I’m willing to make an exception when it comes to the two of you. I’ve been here this whole time, you know,” she added. “I watched Reid take his forefather’s life to save yours. I watched him throw his entire belief system out the window and learn magic for your sake—and wear leather pants in a traveling troupe. I watched you sacrifice pieces of yourself to protect him. He fought an entire pack of werewolves to return the favor, and you fought tooth and nail in these waters to return to him. You’ve befriended a god, swum with mermaids, and now you can even transform into a three-form shape at will. You can probably do a whole slew of other fun new things too.” Her brows lifted with her shoulders. “I’m certainly not betting against you—unless you’re too afraid to try?”

Nicholina’s hateful voice filled my mind. But you should feel lucky you tricked him, oh yes, because if you hadn’t tricked him—such a tricky little mouse—he never would’ve loved you. If he had known what you are, he never would’ve held you beneath the stars.

Goddamn it.

Beau, who’d been listening in silence, watched me too closely to be comfortable. He arched a brow. “I don’t know, Coco. I don’t think she can do it.”

I glared mutinously at the fire. “Don’t start with me, Beau.”

“Why not?” His dark eyes searched my face and missed nothing. “You just said as much yourself. It won’t work. He’ll never love you again. I’m merely concurring with the sentiment.”

“I’m not doing this.”

“Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. Better not to try at all than to fail, right?” He shrugged dispassionately. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Beau!” Célie’s eyes widened in protest. Perhaps she was too naive to see Beau’s manipulation, or—more likely—perhaps she insisted on being the voice of optimism despite it. “How can you say such wicked things? Of course Reid will love her. The bond they share is true. You saw their kiss—it woke him up despite the magic!”