Chapter 6 The Nyxthorn Bargain
LORD GREY
ONE HOUR AGO
The words came out sharper than I intended. “What exactly is going on?”
Shania didn’t flinch. She was standing by the window, fingers curling through her hair as she stared outside, like she hadn’t just heard me end a call that left a strange weight hanging in the room.
“Your sister sounded… off,” I continued. “She didn’t sound like herself.”
Shania sighed and turned around slowly. “What happened?”
“She's claiming to have lost her memory,” I muttered, picking up my phone. “But something in her tone is telling me that she's hiding something.”
“You know she's always been soft,” Shania mumbled as she finally turned towards me.
That wasn’t an answer.
“She’s grieving,” Shania added, crossing her arms. “She must be trying to convince herself that Fiona didn’t die because of her. It's probably easier that way.”
The name—Fiona settled heavily between us.
I opened my mouth to respond, but Shania raised a finger. “Please dad. Don’t.”
She shook her head once. “We shouldn’t talk about Fiona right now. Not today.”
There was a finality to her tone that told me pushing wouldn't change anything.
“We have a wedding to plan,” she continued. “And two weeks isn’t a lot of time.”
I studied her face. She looked too composed, like someone who had already decided what her life was going to look like and refused to look at the cracks forming underneath.
“Are you really sure that boy is good for you?” I asked quietly.
She didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
That was what scared me.
“The same boy that buried his girlfriend without batting an eye?”
“Dad, don't say it like that,” she protested. “He did this for me. For your ambition to finally be in control of Silverfang.”
“But—”
“That’s enough dad. I'm marrying him.”
I exhaled sharply and stood from my chair, walking a few steps away before turning back to her. “If this is what will make you happy,” I said, choosing each word carefully, “then I’ll support it.”
Her face lit-up immediately.
“Really?” she asked, already moving toward me.
She wrapped her arms around my waist, pressing her cheek against my chest like she used to when she was younger. I rested a hand on her back, patting once, then again.
“I just want you safe,” I muttered in a cool tone.
“I will be,” she replied, her voice muffled. “I promise.”
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
I pulled it out, my thumb already hovering over the screen.
Desmond's text popped up on the screen.
A smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it.
Shania pulled back. “Who is it?”
“An old friend,” I said. “We need to meet.”
She nodded, distracted again as she returned to the window.
I read the message.
“WE SHOULD MEET. THERE ARE FUTURE POLITICAL OBLIGATIONS TO DISCUSS. ALSO, I HAVE SOMEONE IMPORTANT WHO WANTS TO MEET YOU.”
I typed back quickly.
*What time?”
The reply came almost immediately.
4:00 PM.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at Shania.
“There's an important business I need to take care of,” I said in a hurried tone. “I’ll see you later.”
She waved with a smile on her face, “I love you dad.”
“I love you more, my beautiful angel.”
Evening came in no time. By the time I stepped into the car, the sky had already begun to darken. The ride to the hotel was quiet, interrupted only by my instinctive thoughts.
The hotel stood tall against the evening sky—its lights glowing brightly. A joint investment—one of our earlier ventures. Created on neutral grounds.
I stepped inside and headed toward the private lounge we always used.
“Hi sir,” the hotel receptionist bowed as I walked towards her.
“Hi dear.”
The walk through the hallways felt quiet and calm, interrupted only by the steady hum of air conditioners in the rooms. I slowed when I heard voices coming from the lounge.
Desmond’s laugh was unmistakable. The other voice, however, was unfamiliar and dangerously calm. I stopped just outside the door.
“…what exactly do you stand to gain,” the stranger said, “by helping Grey’s grandson become the alpha of the pack?”
There was a long pause.
“You could take the role yourself,” the man continued. “It would make business smoother.”
Desmond chuckled. “And what fun would that be?”
I leaned slightly closer to the door.
“You’re avoiding the question,” the man said. “Are you really planning to share profits with him when you could own everything?”
Desmond laughed again, louder this time. “Of course not.”
The words landed cleanly.
“But for now,” Desmond added, “I have to play my cards right.”
There was a long pause, then—
“In order to know where the flower grows,” Desmond continued, his voice dropping slightly, “I need Grey to tell me himself.”
A small smile curled at the corner of my lips, then I pushed the door open.
“Starting the meeting without me already?” My voice carried lightly.
Both men turned.
Desmond stood immediately, his face breaking into a grin. “Grey. Perfect timing.”
The other man remained seated. He looked up at me slowly—eyes assessing and calculating.
“Apologies,” Desmond said, clapping his hands together. “We didn’t hear you arrive.”
“I’m sure,” I replied.
My gaze remained on the stranger. “And you are?”
He stood then, finally, extending a hand. “A friend.”
I took his hand briefly. His grip felt firm and confident.
“A friend of Desmond,” he clarified.
“That makes you either very powerful,” I said, “or very foolish.”
A corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ve been called both.”
Desmond laughed, but it sounded forced now. “Why don’t we sit?”
We did.
“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “What exactly is this political conversation really about?”
Desmond waved a hand dismissively. “Business, as always.”
The stranger’s eyes flicked to Desmond.
Desmond hesitated, just for a fraction of a second.
“There’s something else,” Desmond said, tapping on his temple nervously.
“I’m all ears,” I muttered.
“The Nyxthorn flower,” he said. “My friend here would like to be involved in a business transaction with you.”
“And what do you need the flower for?” Leaning back into my chair, my gaze lingering on the stranger.
“I'm willing to pay a huge sum of money for it,” he said in a cold hushed voice. “You don't need to know the details.
That somehow found a way to make me even more irritated. But I kept my expression still.
“You're too much of a mystery,” I said. “There's no way I can do business with you as things stand right now.” Rising to my feet.
“Grey—”
“You can tell your friend that I don't like secrets while I'm doing business.” I muttered, walking out of the room.
“See you around.”
The stranger's voice carried behind me. And I scoffed. “Sure.”
Whatever it takes, I'll find out who you really are—stranger.
