“It would be wise not to mention anything about contracts to the Governor,” the leader said as they parked in front of the whitewashed mansion. He’d spent the drive by her side in the backseat of the Jeep, never so much as closing an eye despite them not even stopping for the night and a golden chain keeping her tied to him by the wrist at all times. “Nor whichever Lord claims you as his mate.”

“You mean so your friend doesn’t get into trouble for trying to poach one of your so-called Pure Breeders?” she bit.

He smiled a half-smile, tugging gently on her chain to make her follow him out of the car. “It would certainly look problematic for him, but Marathin is very old. Demons his age always find loopholes—that’s why they get to live as long as they do. There is every chance you’d find yourself as his breeding slave in the end. And trust me when I tell you I’ve known him long enough to say that you would not enjoy returning to him after he’d taken whatever punishment would befall him for his misdeeds.”

“And if I stay silent, he will just give up and let me go?” She snorted as they climbed the stairs, a silent guard opening the door for them. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“He will.” He gave her a hard look. “As I said, he’s very old. He’s not dumb enough to throw his life away pursuing a piece of pussy so long as giving you up saves his own skin. Even one as sweetly scented as yours.”

“How comforting,” she muttered, coming to a sharp stop when he jerked the chain again.

The Agent otherwise ignored her, focusing instead on the demon crossing the grand entry hall, an expectant smile on his ageless face as he looked her over.

“Agent Azir, welcome. And is this the Pure Breeder we were notified of? The Governor’s house has been all aflutter with the news of your arrival, precious one.”

“Indeed it is, Nemar. I have orders to bring her straight to the Governor. Please let him know we’ve arrived.” The Agent gave the other demon a stern look, breaking the other’s trance-like stare at her.

“Oh. Of course. Please, bring her to the second reception room—it’s been secured in anticipation of your arrival.” The demon gave Selma another look before he turned on his heel and disappeared farther into the mansion.

The Governor was a demon the size of Kain, his power more than evident despite his human disguise. He was a Lord, Selma was sure. He was only the second of his kind she’d ever seen, and the reminder of the man who’d given her up sent a stab through her chest.