Page 22 of Bitten in Stone
“It is the only one we have.”
Yeah, Ruger understood that, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. As Luka had pointed out, however, they really had run out of options.
For the past two days, they had poured over every piece of literature they could find about mystics and magical bonds. They had consulted with people a hell of a lot older and more experienced than them, and they had all pretty much said the same thing.
They were outmatched in every way.
They could either run or find a way to outsmart Castor. Even then, they had only a small probability of success.
Damn it, nothing seemed real anymore. In his world, magic had limits. Witches were powerful but not omnipotent. Curses ranged from petty to inconvenient. Not life-altering and deadly.
For fuck’s sake, he’d met literal gods, and even they had a weakness. Of course, none of them happened to be around whenhe really needed them. At this point, though, he doubted they would even be able to help.
Since they couldn’t overpower the rockstar, that meant they had to outsmart him. Only, that also seemed impossible. Ruger highly doubted they would be able to trick him into breaking the curse himself.
In a moment of desperation, he had thrown his hands in the air and declared they should just walk up to Castor and politely ask him to release Luka. It had been said with frustration and no small amount of sarcasm, but his mate had latched onto the idea.
Would it work? Probably not. Did they have a better plan? Also no.
He still hated it.
“Perhaps you should wait here,” Luka suggested as they strode into the hotel lobby.
“What?” He jerked around to gape at his mate. “No. Why would you say that?”
Skye had graciously agreed to facilitate a meeting with Castor, and to his surprise the male had actually accepted the invitation. He just hadn’t decided if that was a good thing or not.
He leaned toward not, and he had no intention of letting his mate walk into a room alone with the asshole.
“Your emotions are…unstable.”
Which sounded like a nice way of saying he was freaking the fuck out, which wouldn’t be an unfair assumption. So many things could go wrong, and nothing in his life had prepared him to face something like this.
“I’ve worked with him before,” he argued as if that somehow qualified him to manage the meeting. “I know him.”
“So do I.”
Ruger growled, those pesky emotions getting the better of him. “Just…let me come with you. I need to be there.”
“Then calm yourself,taavi.”
Yeah, okay, he could do that. Probably. He just needed to reframe the situation.
At its core, this was nothing more than a contract, and the key to any successful negotiation was finding a compromise that benefited both parties Ideally, he preferred to have some type of influence, and unfortunately, in this situation, Luka had little to offer.
Still, he’d started with less before.
While desperation could be transformed into opportunity, the problem came from the fact that they had nothing Castor wanted or needed. He had to find a way to shift the balance, even if only slightly, and not let fear dictate their choices.
He continued to strategize as they wound their way through the guests, past the curving staircase, and down the corridor to a row of conference rooms. While he didn’t like the idea of a closed-door meeting—a public venue seemed a hell of a lot safer—he also recognized the necessity since Castor’s fame presented its own set of problems.
And possibly leverage.
Stopping outside of a frosted glass door, he took a deep breath and glanced over at his mate. “Are you ready?”
At Luka’s nod, he pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Ruger Raines!” The mystic leaned against the long table in the center of the room, beaming at him like an old friend. “And Luka! It’s so good to see you out and about.”
