In any case, I’m not that lucky. Best that I assume an unspeakable horror is coming to crash through the portals the council is obsessed with opening.

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and all that.

The dizziness coming out of my mother’s astral plane conversation barely wears off before I’m summoned to the circle. I quickly change into my robes and take my place just outside of the circle.

It’s set up to be in the middle of the room with a raised dais in the center. The circle itself encompasses a few car lengths.

Just what are they conjuring to need a circle of this size?

“Have you made your choice?”

This is the point where I’m supposed to choose among their stud options. Earlier this evening, I would have agonized over the choice. Now, I know for sure who I want inside that circle with me.

“Soren Youngblood.”

The Armstrong family, Callum in particular, makes it seem like I stabbed them through their hearts.

They may be angry with me now, but in a couple of hours, they’re going to be pretty damn grateful their precious son isn’t chosen.

I can endure Soren’s swagger for a little while, knowing I will be rid of him for the rest of my life.

We enter from opposite sides of the circle. We kneel in front of the dais, grasping each others’s hand—my left in his right. The council member takes a ceremonial knife and nicks both of us, allowing our blood to trickle down.

I avoid Soren’s gaze, instead focusing on our joined hands that we have offered in binding. We wait until the council member wraps a length of cloth around our union, tucking the ends at our wrists.

We move as one until we face each other, kneeling on the dais.

The council member places two goblets in front of us.

“Drink.”

Soren and I pick up our goblets, but I hesitate, my hand trembling. The liquid inside is dark and thick. I stare at the concoction as if willing the contents to break apart and reveal itself to be nothing more than herbs and spices. Since that isn’t happening, I turn my attention to Soren. His normally cocky expression is gone, replaced with one of determination. He’s eager to do as the council wants.

At least I have the presence of mind to test the contents of the goblet to see what they’re dosing us with.

Ah. Natural mood inhibitors and libido enhancers.

Nothing like a cocktail of certified organic date rape drugs to get you in the mood.

We raise our goblets in unison as if we’d practiced it a hundred times before. “Bottoms up.”

Even with my voiding spell, the liquid packed a punch. I sway a little before the effects dissipate and I regain control of my faculties.

Soren, however, is amped up. His body rising to the occasion already.

I focus on nullifying the effects of the drugs while hiding my spell casting from the council. Lucky for me, they’ve got their hands full, creating a warding circle.

Just a few more minutes, the sigils will complete and lock us in.

I wriggle my hand, loosening the cloth from my wrist. I’ll be able to slide out easily enough. The sigils are nearly completely around.

I pull my hand free and get ready to run before the circle closes.

What I don’t consider is Soren.

Faster than a snake, his arms whip around me, catching me before I even make it to my feet. His grip is like fighting against bands of steel. “I’m tired of waiting.”

“What?”