"The emotional bond." Dusk's voice was quiet. "The spiritual connection. Mates aren't just about power and status, Nyla. They're about—"
"I know what mates are about." Nyla's words cut through his like a blade. Her smile sharpened into something that didn't quite reach her eyes. "But I doubt deities like you are chasing something as foolish as love. At least you want someone who's sexy. Beautiful. Someone who can appear as your precious mate in public."
Her free hand lifted, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw. Slow. Deliberate. "I can be whatever you need me to be. Loving. Devoted. Obedient." Her nails scraped lightly against his skin. "Whatever you want, I'll give you. I'll worship you. Serve you. Be the perfect mate."
There it is.
Dusk's mind catalogued the words.
Worship. Serve. Obedience.
She sees this as transactional. Power in exchange for submission. Status in exchange for devotion.
She doesn't want a mate.
She wants a patron deity. A benefactor.
