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Chapter 92
A blank check to a vampire tord. An undefined favor that could be called in at any time, for any reason. It was dangerous. Potentially catastrophic.
But if it saved lives. If it gave us the edge we needed to survive.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m prepared.”
“You’re sure? Because Jeremy, vampire favors aren’t smallthings. He could ask for anything. Territory access. Political support. Information about pack operations. You’d be honor–bound to comply.”
“I understand the risk.”
My father studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Make the call. But Jeremy–if Lord Castellan refuses, we don’t push. Vampires don’t respond well to pressure. Ask once, accept whatever answer he gives.”
“Understood.”
I stepped out of the war room into the quiet hallway, my heart pounding. This was either brilliant or catastrophically stupid No middle ground.
I pulled up the contact information my father had given me years ago. A direct line to Lord Castellan’s estate. Not something to be used lightly.
The phone rang three times. Then a smooth, cultured voice answered. “Crescent Moon Pack. How unexpected. To what do I owe the pleasure of a call at 2:30 in the morning?”
“Lord Castellan. This is Jeremy Trent, son of Alpha Richard. I’m calling to discuss a matter of mutual interest.”
“Mutual interest?” A hint of amusement. “How intriguing. Do continue, young wolf.”
I explained the situation–the mercenary consolidation, the planned assault, our numerical disadvantage. Lord Castellan listened without interruption, his silence somehow more unnerving than questions would have been.
“So you’re asking for military assistance,” he said when I finished. “Against a force of mercenary wolves who have no connection to vampire interests. That’s quite a request.”
“It is. And I’m prepared to acknowledge the debt this would create.”
“Personal debt,” he clarified. “Your father was wise to explain that to you. I agree, Jeremy Trent, you would owe me. Not your pack. You personally.”
“I understand.”
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“Do you?” His voice turned cold. “Vampire debts are not wolf debts. They don’t expire. Don’t diminish with time. I could call in this favor tomorrow or in fifty years, and you would be bound by honor to comply.”
“I understand,” I repeated, my throat dry.
“And you’re still willing to make this bargain? To trade an undefined future favor for tactical support in a single battle?”
“If that support means my people survive, then yes.”
Silence. Long enough that I wondered if he’d hung up.
Then: “Tell me about your mate. The one this mercenary organization is hunting.”
The question threw me. “What about her?”
“I’ve heard rumors. That she’s your fated mate. That you betrayed her with another female. That you’re now trying to protect her from the consequences of your own poor choices.” A pause. “Is that accurate?”
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+15 Bonus
Heal rose to fly face “Yes. That’s accurate.”
“Interesting. So you’re not asking me to save your pack from an unprovoked attack. You’re asking me to help clean up a mess you created through infidelity and stupidity.”
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