The Wish Granter (Ravenspire #2)(9)

Without mercy.

And now he no longer had to account for interference from the crown. With the new king of Súndraille firmly in Alistair’s debt, he could conduct his business out in the open.

His would be the name whispered in secret by a kingdom too terrified to speak of him in broad daylight. He would be the cautionary tale parents told their children at night and the clarion call of hope for those desperate enough to bargain their lives away. He would do as he pleased with relentless force; and by the time he made a move for the throne, there would be no one left to dream of opposing him.

Once upon a time, he’d served a crown with no desire to wear one himself.

But that was before the betrayal. Before his exile.

Before the fear of another human uncovering his secrets turned his dreams into nightmares.

When he was in power, when the kingdom was cowering at his feet, he would force every subject to sign a contract in blood. A promise that if they ever asked questions about him—his present or his past—they would immediately pay for it with their lives. He’d finally be untouchable.

He glanced around once more, meeting the eyes of Daan, his debt collector, and the handful of enforcers who were scattered about, blending into the busy rhythm of the dock until the time came to spring the trap.

A flurry of activity at the mouth of the dock caught his attention, and Teague’s eyes narrowed as a woman carrying a small child on one hip and a worn satchel over her shoulder shoved a piece of parchment into the harbormaster’s hands and gathered her other four children close while he read the document.

A shipping order. Confirmation that she’d scraped together her meager coin and purchased a berth for herself and her miserable brood aboard a large Eldrian cargo ship bound for the remote port of Ailvansky.

She’d been careful. Secretive. She’d trusted no one.

It didn’t matter. Teague had spies everywhere, including the dock. Cold rage filled him as she took the parchment from the harbormaster with shaking hands and urged her children onto the dock and toward the ramps.

Humans. Greedy, easily manipulated, and unfaithful to their last breath.

He eased behind a merchant who was loudly ticking off the items on his cargo list and waited while she rushed her children past his hiding place. She was muttering desperate pleas for them to move faster. Be quieter. Hurry.

As the last child, a boy who looked maybe ten years old, moved past Teague, pushing a younger girl ahead of him and glancing around the dock with worried eyes, Teague left his place of concealment. Lunging forward, he grabbed the boy’s arm and spun him around.

The boy’s eyes grew big, and he pulled back, but he was no match for Teague.

“Oh, Sela, I believe you’re forgetting someone,” he called, his voice cutting through the dockside clamor and bringing the woman to a halt.

She spun, and terror flooded her face at the sight of her son caught in Teague’s grip.

“Please.” She dropped the satchel and raised a trembling hand toward Teague as her other children clustered around her, their eyes fixed on their older brother. “Not my boy. Not him.”

Teague stepped toward her, dragging the boy with him. “It wouldn’t have been your boy at all, Sela, but you tried to cheat me.”

“I didn’t . . . I wasn’t . . .” Her voice faded, and tears gathered in her eyes. “Please.”

“Your collection day isn’t for another three months, but trying to break your contract with me makes the debt come due immediately.” Teague reached a free hand into his vest pocket and pulled out a glittering diamond flask with a gold stopper.

“No!” Her voice broke.

He shoved the boy toward his siblings and unstoppered the flask as Sela pulled her son close. “Nine years, eight months, three weeks, and two days ago, you made a wish that I would save your dying husband. You promised me your soul if I would take away the disease that was killing him.” His eyes snapped to hers, and rage burned in his chest while his magic spread through his veins like ice. “I kept my end of our bargain. And how do you repay me? You try to run!”

“Because my children need me!”

“They have your husband.” His gaze was pitiless.

“He died. Two years ago this fall. Hit by a horse and carriage while we were at the market.” She threw the words at him, desperate and fierce. “When I made the deal, I thought he would be alive to take care of any children we might have. To provide for them. But he died.”

“That’s what people do,” Teague said viciously. “And that changes nothing about our arrangement.”

“But my children! They’ll be left with no one to take care of them.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and fell to the dusty wooden planks beneath her feet.

Teague smiled. “They’ll have me. At least until I sell them to a slaver in Balavata.” He met the gaze of his collector and motioned sharply for his men to move in.

Sela looked wildly around the dock as the enforcers stepped forward. “Run!” she yelled to her children, but it was too late. Teague’s men had them surrounded.

“Please, I’m begging you!” She fell to her knees and clutched for her children as the enforcers dragged them away from her.

“Beg all you want.” His voice was soft as he stepped toward her. “Plead. Grovel. Promise me anything if only I won’t take what you already agreed to give.”