Chapter 114: Sly Wolves
The lanterns in Zareth’s private chamber were burning low, casting unstable shadows across the stone walls. Zareth stood near the bed, unclad, the day’s formal robes discarded in a heap on it. He pulled a plain night robe over his shoulders when the air shifted behind him. He moved with the ease of someone who owned the space and everything in it.
Draven appeared without warning, as he often did, his boots hitting the stone floor with a dull sound. Zareth wasn’t startled. He finished tying the belt of his robe and turned.
Draven let out a long, audible sigh that was more of a performance than genuine fatigue. "How long do you intend to keep sending me on these little errands?" he asked, his voice dry.
"Oh, Draven—"
Draven cuts in. "I barely return before you have another task waiting."
Zareth gave a low chuckle and walked to the side of the bed. "Are you upset about the errands, or do you just prefer more interesting work?"
Draven walked straight to the bed and let himself fall backwards into it. He propped himself on one elbow against the pillows, watching as Zareth adjusted his sleeves.
Draven smirked. "Rowena is interesting, I’ll give you that," he said. "But I would appreciate raiding a pack or a merchant caravan. Something with a proper fight at the end. And feeding. It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper hunt."
Zareth looked down at him. "In due time, you’ll have enough to feed on. All in due time." He sat down at the edge of the bed. "Tell me. How did it go with Rowena?"
"It was a success," Draven said, shifting to get more comfortable.
Zareth nodded. "Details. What are your honest thoughts on her? Not the report. Your opinion."
Draven tilted his head, considering what to say. "Actually, she’s naive. Looks desperate for purpose, for power, and approval. She’s sure to cling to the structure you give her. She may look predictable, but she’s not stupid. She appears to be more resilient than she looks. If she feels genuinely safe, if she trusts you completely, she could be a great tool."
Zareth nodded slowly, absorbing Draven’s words. "I agree. She would do anything to protect what she thinks is hers." He leaned back against the headboard, then shifted closer until he was lying beside Draven.
Zareth turned on his side and reached out, his hand curling around Draven’s arms to pull him closer. Draven allowed it, his body responding before his mind caught up. Their faces were only inches apart. Draven’s sharp green eyes locked onto Zareth’s mismatched ones. The space between them felt charged. Draven’s gaze dropped briefly to Zareth’s mouth, and his tongue darted out, wetting his lower lip.
"Your job isn’t done," Zareth said, his voice quiet and direct. "I need you to get closer to her. By any means you see fit. If I choose her as my partner, then I have a plan to test her loyalty, and you are the key to it."
Draven’s brow lifted, his gaze unwavering. "And what’s in it for me?"
Zareth moved his head forward until his forehead rested against Draven’s. He could feel the unnatural coolness of Draven’s skin. His voice lowered. "There’s a lot in it for you."
Draven’s breath slowed. "Such as?"
"A great deal. Plant seeds of doubt in her mind concerning me. Her reaction would tell whose side she’s on. And if you succeed, if you make her see you as a loyal friend, a confidant, you can have her. You can get her into your bed, if that’s what you want." Zareth tilted his head slightly. "Do you still have plans to bed something that belongs to me?"
"Yes," Draven answered immediately, his voice a low scrape.
Zareth smiled, slow and sharp. "Then you have my permission. Do whatever you wish with Rowena, as long as you do your task properly. You must continue to feed her doubts about me. Do you understand?"
Draven’s eyes darkened. He nodded, the movement slight against Zareth’s forehead. eyes darkened. "Understood, my lord."
Zareth closed the remaining distance and kissed him roughly. Draven responded with the same intensity, his hand coming up to grip the back of Zareth’s neck, returning the passion with a fierce hunger of his own.
After a moment, Zareth broke the kiss. He pulled back and placed a hand on Draven’s shoulder and gave it a single pat. "I trust you’ll do well."
Draven swallowed and leaned back against the pillows again. "When do you intend to summon the witch-queen’s spirit again?" He asked, shifting the subject."
"Not yet." He said.
Zareth rolled onto his back to stare at the canopy above the bed. The amusement in his expression faded slightly.
"I’m not ready to deal with another of her demands. She requested I crown Rowena, and I fulfilled that. Summoning her again means I must be prepared to fulfill another request. And I’m not interested in owing her more than I already do. I enjoy the fact that Rowena is wrapped around my fingers. I do not enjoy the fact that the witch queen thinks she has me wrapped around her finger. So she will have her time again when I summon her and not before."
Draven nodded slowly. "And you don’t think she will try to break free? To shatter Rowena’s soul from the inside to free herself?"
Zareth sighed, a sound of genuine irritation. "I have thought about it. I’ll deal with it later. Tonight, I want to enjoy the feel of a successful day. One thing at a time."
"I can’t wait," Draven said, his voice edged with anticipation. "I can’t wait to fulfill our plans. Plunging the world into darkness has a certain appeal."
Zareth glanced at him. "Soon," he said. "For now, focus on entertaining Rowena. Keep her occupied and feeling important until the forsaken is found."
Draven rolled his eyes, a clear gesture of impatience. "Babysitting a queen. Lucky me."
Zareth noticed and smiled. "Succeed in this plan to test Rowena’s loyalty, and I will grant you one wish."
Draven froze. "Any wish?"
"Anything within my considerable power," Zareth confirmed.
A sudden, vivid excitement spread across Draven’s face. In a swift movement, he jumped off the bed, energy flooding him. "You always know how to motivate me."
He paced a quick circle around the bed and then snapped his fingers. A scroll of parchment and a pot of ink appeared in his hand. He thrust them toward Zareth.
"Sign it," Draven said, his voice tight with eagerness.
Zareth looked at him for a long moment, then raised his hands and snapped his fingers. A dark, shiny ink appeared at the bottom of the parchment, forming his signature without bothering to ask or read what was written in the document.
Draven snatched the parchment back. He stared at it for half a second, then burst into laughter. "You’ll regret this, Zareth."
He danced around the room, spinning steps as he laughed loudly. He snapped his fingers once more, and the signed contract vanished into thin air.
Draven stopped in front of Zareth and bowed exaggeratedly. "Pleasure doing business with you."
"Goodnight, Draven."
He straightened. "Goodnight, Zareth."
And with another ripple in the air, Draven was gone. The chamber felt suddenly still and empty. Zareth lay still for several minutes. A smile spread on his expression as pictures of his plans formed in his mind’s eyes.
The immediate pieces were in motion. Draven was predictably motivated by hunger and want. That made him reliable. Rowena was scared and lonely. That made her usable. The promise of a wish would keep Draven focused and aggressive in his task. The promise of safety and power would keep Rowena leaning toward the only hand offered, even if it were the one that would eventually wrap around her throat.
He felt the weight of his plans, a familiar pressure. The necessity of the next step, and the step after that, there was joy in it. He snapped his fingers, plunging the room into darkness. Then he turned onto his side, closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
