Nicholas had restarted Guinevere's heart in the jungle with a mark. Guinevere had just put her mark on Nicholas on a corridor floor. Damon wasn't claiming to be a genius, but he could do that math with his damn eyes closed.
Renwick saw Nicholas's corpse cooling on the floor. The clock was ticking and damage-control mode was fully engaged. His daughter had just set the goddamn map on fire and turned the whole operation into a circus, so this widow's bullshit contract was at the bottom of his current shit list.
But he still had one eyebrow raised. There was an issue.
"That doesn't solve the contract I have with Drakencrest."
"No," Damon agreed. "But it puts you in the best position to. You and I both know it, Alpha. If Drakencrest does consider it a breach, Shadowfell will pay the seven hundred and fifty million gold as a contingency. I'm not going to insult you and pretend that the dragon fleet Drakencrest offered is nothing, because it's not. But I can offer that."
