by Bella Jacobs
If his dad hadn’t been sitting right there, I’m pretty sure Maxim would have crushed my bones to dust with his bare hands.
Instead, he sat down for tea and we discussed how best to announce our engagement. But the entire time his teeth were grinding together, and he was quietly plotting my demise in the dark recesses of his twisted mind.
Of course, I don’t actually know what was going on in his mind. But I’m sufficiently convinced of my future mate’s animosity toward me that I don’t intend to risk being alone with him again until we’re man and wife and pack law would require his immediate execution should he lose control of his bloodthirsty impulses and say…toss me off a balcony.
Until then, he might be able to get away with offing me, assuming he can find some way to prove I’m a danger to his pack.
I’m not, of course, but I sense Maxim’s not above planting evidence to wriggle free of the marriage noose.
My fated mate has serious control issues—he wants all of it and gets a bad case of murder eyeballs when someone shoplifts power he sees as his.
But I’m not trying to take his power, just to acquire enough of my own to have some say over my future.
I don’t want to marry Maxim, either—I don’t want to marry anyone—but it’s becoming increasingly clear I probably have no other choice. Enough people believe my womb is the secret to shifter domination that I have to marry for my own protection.
And sadly, Maxim is the least wretched candidate.
He’s an arrogant asshole, but he’s also one of the most powerful Alphas of his generation, is doing his best to be a good leader, and has the capacity to care about people, though he’ll never care about me.
Not now.
Not after I shamed him in front of his father.
In fact, I’m pretty sure Maxim will go out of his way to ensure our married life is an exercise in misery for me. So, until then, I intend to enjoy my last thirty days of freedom as much as possible.
And spend it shoring up the alliances I’ll need to rule effectively as Maxim’s queen…starting with moving out of the consort’s apartment and into the spare bedroom at Diana’s place.
The best way to keep your fiancé from dropping a piano on you before the wedding? Make sure you’re never far from the sister he loves to distraction and would do anything to protect.
“Oh my god, this is so exciting!” Diana greets me at her front door with a giddy squeal and throws her arms around my neck. “I can’t believe it! We’re going to be sisters!”
Laughing, I hug her with one arm, holding onto the handle of the suitcase I’ve been given with the other. My bodyguards wanted to carry my things, but I insisted on dragging the bag onto the elevator myself. I don’t intend to be a spoiled Alpha queen, and I want to make that clear from day one.
“I know,” I say, following her into her bright, sunny apartment with the view of the river and Brooklyn beyond. “Engagements happen fast around here.”
“When they’re my brother’s they do.” She waves me through the combination living room and kitchen and down a short hallway. “Your room is in here. It’s tiny compared to the consort’s quarters, but super cozy. And you’ll have your own bathroom, so you won’t have to share with me. I confess I’m a bit of a pig when it comes to tidying up in the loo. I shed so much every time I do my hair it feels like a losing battle, you know? Better to just leave the mess and clean it once a year or so when I can’t walk through the tangle of hairballs anymore.”
I laugh and wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”
“Thanks,” she says, opening the door to my room and extending an arm. “What do you think?”
My stomach does a happy-sad flip at the sight of the blue and pink room with pop art on the walls and a gorgeous glass bowl of flowers by the bed. Happy because I’m so grateful to Diana for setting me up with a beautiful space; sad because it’s only temporary.
Soon, I’ll be back in the consort’s quarters, waging marital warfare with my unwilling mate and his aunt’s hideous vase.
For the first time since I set my plan in motion, tears sting at the backs of my eyes. Diana, being the person she is, notices immediately, and swoops in to wrap her arms around me.
“Don’t cry, sweet Willow,” she says, rubbing my back in soothing circles. “It’s all going to be okay. Just wait and see. Come on, let me show you the bathroom. The shower can be tricky.”
I sniff. “It’s okay. I’m sure I can figure it out later. But I’d love some coffee if you have any. I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I can imagine,” Diana says, nodding toward the door to the adjoining bath again. “And yes, I have coffee, tea, and espresso, but first let me show you the shower. I’m afraid I’ll forget, and you’ll be desperate to get clean later while I’m out and end up frustrated and confused.”
I doubt the shower’s that complicated and I’m pretty handy with mechanical things, but I’m happy to put Diana’s mind at ease. Leaving my suitcase in a corner of the room to unpack later, I follow her into a pretty blue and yellow bathroom with framed mermaid paintings on every inch of wall space. It’s a perfect complement to the bedroom.
“This is so cute, Diana.” I motion to the pictures and wrought iron seashells and octopi mounted on the wall. “I love every single piece.”
“Thanks,” she says, brushing the seaweed print shower curtain aside. “I decorated my apartment myself. I want to be an interior designer, but like…better than my Aunt Claudia. Much better.” I laugh as she motions toward the faucet and adds, “Okay, so first you need to get the temperature adjusted down here. If you turn on the shower first, you will burn the shit out of yourself.”
She cranks the knobs and I move closer to see how she adjusts the hot and cold.
But to my surprise, she doesn’t continue the shower lesson; she takes my hand and squeezes tight as she whispers, “My apartment is tapped, this is the only way to talk without being overheard. But we have to be quiet, okay?”
Eyes wide, I nod. “Okay.”
“I’m sneaking away to meet with Jacob tonight to see what he knows about the attack, if anything,” she says. “Do you want me to see if his people can help you get out of here before the wedding? You don’t have to marry my brother if you don’t want to.”
Throat tight with gratitude, I shake my head. “Thank you, but I think I do have to marry him. There’s a lot you don’t know about Maxim and me. I’m happy to tell you what I can, but—”
“I know you’re fated mates,” she cuts in. “My dad told me after you met with him yesterday, and he wouldn’t lie about something like that. Or fake a horoscope or whatever your old Alpha did. But that doesn’t mean you have to marry Maxim, not in our pack, anyway. Fated only means you could be a perfect match if you’re both invested in the relationship. You could also end up just being perfectly suited to drive each other crazy.”
My lips curve in a wry smile. “I’m pretty sure that’s a given.”
Diana’s brow furrows empathetically. “And that will make you miserable, Willow. People with pretty pink auras like ours thrive on authenticity, kindness, and playful creativity. Living with a man who will turn everything into a fight for dominance is going to crush your spirit.”
I drag a hand through my hair. “Maybe not. Maybe we can make it work. We had a nice time together at the theater before the explosion. For a while there, I thought we were going to be friends.”
“But not now, babe,” she says, her eyes troubled. “I haven’t seen Maxim since your meeting, but I know my brother. He likes calling the shots—about everything, but especially when it comes to his own life. There is no doubt in my mind that he’s fucking mental over this and fully intending to make you pay for going around him to work this out with our dad.”
I nod. “I know. But I didn’t see that I had a choice.” I briefly fill her in on the night in Maxim’s study, my dream, and what I’ve learned about the prophecy so far. “I didn’t see another way to make sure he cou
ldn’t treat me that way anymore while also protecting myself from people who think I can make them the ruler of the shifter world.”
Diana twines a lock of hair around her finger. “My dad thinks this prophecy is true, too?” When I nod, she adds, “What did your pack gift tell you?”
“Nothing firm,” I say. “It didn’t react to any of your dad’s questions about the prophecy. He said his old Pathfinder foretold it would come to pass, but Maxim says Pathfinders can fake that glow. Your dad taught me how to stop it when I don’t want it showing pretty easily, so maybe he’s right.” I shrug. “In any event, I think it’s too soon to say if the prophecy is the real deal or not.”
“But your dream said it was.”
“No,” I say, “my dream talked in riddles about kings and queens and woodsmen, then told me to contact Pax, which is how I found out about the baby thing. I called him yesterday.”
Her eyes go wide. “You called him? From the phone in your room? Shit, they’re going to find out about that, Willow. They keep track of every outgoing call. If the enforcers weren’t so busy dealing with the fallout from the explosion and everything, I’m sure Maxim would know about it already.”
I nod. “I figured as much. But I’m prepared to tell him the truth about what I discussed with Pax.” I motion to my face. “And I’ll have the glow to back me up.”
Diana looks somewhat mollified by that, but still worried. “Okay, we should probably turn off the water but let me know if you change your mind about an escape plan. Just ask me to help you curl your hair. That will be our code for needing a top-secret bathroom talk.” She reaches for the taps, but then turns back to me without twisting them off. “Oh, and I’ll need your help tonight. When I leave the engagement ceremony early, tell Maxim I’ve had a funny stomach all day, come check on me once, and then tell him I’m in bed asleep, okay?”
“Got it, but you won’t be in bed asleep, right?” She shakes her head and I ask, “So where will you be? I won’t tell Maxim, but I think someone should know, right? Just in case?”
Diana bites her lip for a moment before she says, “I’m putting myself out with the evening trash. Jacob’s going to hide near the dumpsters at the sanitation company’s next stop and fish me out before they pour more grossness all over me.”
I wince. “That sounds dangerous, Diana. Not to mention unsanitary.”
“I know,” she says, “but there’s no other way out. Maxim’s locked everything down so hard since the attack that all my usual tricks won’t work. And I’ll be fine. Even if I end up buried in trash, I’ll survive. One of the best parts about being a shifter, right? Harder to kill than a cockroach. That’s one of my dad’s favorite sayings, by the way. Prepare to hear it a lot if you have kids and are worried about them getting hurt.” She reaches over, turns off the water, then adds at her normal volume, “Dad believes in letting baby wolves run wild and learn from their bumps and bruises.” She stands and motions toward the door. “Come on, let’s go get that coffee. I could use a caffeine jolt, too.”
Baby wolves, I think as I follow her into the kitchen.
I don’t want a baby, or so I’ve been telling myself for years.
But I can’t deny that since seeing myself pregnant in the window’s reflection, my feelings have begun to shift. Or, rather, I’ve started to see my resistance for what it is.
I’m not anti-baby. I do want children, want them pretty intensely, in fact, but I don’t want them in a world like this one.
Which means I have to change the world…
And that’s not something I’m going to accomplish by marrying Maxim and being the typical mate who sits back and lets her partner call the shots.
I wouldn’t want a marriage like that in any version of the world, but especially not this one. The bossy, violent, all-male Alpha leadership of the past few centuries has led to the fracturing of our people, the desecration of our customs, and the ruin of The Parallel.
If things keep going as they have been, in another fifty years, the supernatural dimension will be a chaos-riddled warzone unfit for raising a patch of vegetables, let alone a child. And Human Side has its own downsides, bossy all-male Alphas, and unique challenges for creatures who humans tend to kill when they learn of our existence.
I’ve known since this plan began to take shape that convincing Maxim’s father that he should facilitate this union was only step one. Step two is living long enough to get Maxim’s ring on my finger. And step three is winning my mate over to my way of ruling and convincing him big changes must be made in order to secure the safety and prosperity of all shifters.
Or step three is acquiring enough power, support, and momentum to lock my husband away somewhere and…take his place.
But of course, I can’t tell Diana that.
Not yet, anyway.
First, I have to convince her and enough of her people that I’m a better leader for the North Star pack than her brother. Then, I’ll have to prove to them the prophecy isn’t about me making a man a king, but about becoming king myself.
Or queen.
Thank the stars Jukebox didn’t ask me about that yesterday. The possibility that I might have those sorts of aspirations clearly hasn’t entered his mind. But it’s entered mine, and when I whispered those words to my reflection the morning before I met with Maxim’s father, the glow was soft, but there, which means there’s at least a shot this crazy plan is going to work.
I might actually end up taking over as Alpha.
The thought fills me with more dread than excitement, but I take that as a good sign, too. The best rulers are the ones who have no urge to rule. I don’t crave power or control; I crave peace and hope. And I think there are a lot of people out there who feel the same way.
I just have to find a way to reach them and communicate with them.
Which makes me wonder…
“Diana, does Maxim have a women’s issues advisor?” I ask as we sip our coffee on the overstuffed pink couch in her living room. “To help him know how to better serve the female members of the pack?”
She shakes her head. “Not that I know of, but that’s a great idea. We just had a big dust up after the theater renovations, in fact, with people wondering why they didn’t add more stalls in the ladies’ room while they were at it. We should totally have more stalls than the men. Not only do most of us have periods to deal with every month, but we’re way more likely to be helping kids or older relatives while we’re in there than the guys are. A women’s issues advisor could have helped address that during the planning stage.”
I nod. “They totally could have. I’ll use that as an example when I tell him about my plan to start a focus group. I want to get a group of women together from all walks of life, all stations—Alphas, Betas, Omegas—and see where their needs overlap. Would you be interested in helping coordinate that? I’d love to get started as soon as possible. I don’t see any reason to wait for the wedding.”
“I would be very interested in helping with that,” she says, before adding pleasantly, “but I seriously doubt Maxim is going to like you sticking your oar in after you’re officially his mate, let alone before.”
I nod, also pleasantly, and say, “I’m sure you’re right, but I really don’t care.”
Diana laughs and shakes her head. “Maybe you’ll be able to handle Maxim, after all. It’s high time he had to deal with someone who isn’t afraid of him.”
“Agreed.” I take another bracing drink of my coffee, doing my best not to think of all the things there are to be afraid of.
I never set out to be a revolutionary, but these are the cards Fate has dealt me, and no revolutionary ever changed the world by letting fear call the shots.
Even if her enemy is literally a master of fear, twice her size, and in a far better position to hold onto his power than to be stripped of it.
But you know what they say about desperate times…
Certain I’ve never felt more desperate, I gulp down the rest of
my coffee, fetch a pad and paper from Diana’s desk, and begin to make lists of all the things I intend to get done in the next thirty days, ignoring the anxious voice in my head fretting that I’m about to bite off way more than I can chew.
And that once Maxim finds out…he’s going to take a big bite out of me.
Chapter Eight
Maxim
The engagement ceremony is subdued.
Because I subdued it.
The only good thing about being in the middle of investigating a terrorist attack is that I have an excellent excuse to keep the guest list small and the gathering under heavy guard. I’ve also made it clear that the curfew in effect for the rest of the tower applies to this exercise in futility as well, so it can’t drag on until all hours.
And it will be a futile exercise.
I will chew off my own arm to escape this trap of a marriage if I have to, but I doubt such drastic measures will be required.
I just have to bide my time and give Willow enough rope to hang herself. She knows more about Kelley than she’s letting on or she wouldn’t have stubbornly refused to use her pack gift to help me gain more information on her sister.
Sooner or later, she’s going to slip up and I’ll catch her in a lie. Or her pack gift will betray her. Or I’ll convince my father he’s wrong about the prophecy and that forcing me to marry Willow is a serious mistake.
One way or another, this alliance is doomed from the start.
The thought makes me smile as I ask my temporary fiancée, “Enjoying the evening?” The cocktail reception at the Atrium Bar is even smaller than the ceremony in the gathering room earlier, which is perfect. The fewer people I have to toast this marriage with, the better.
“So much,” Willow lies with the same brittle smile that’s been fixed on her face all night.
I grin. “I’m so glad.”
Her eyes glitter. “You look glad. Are you imagining how nice my head is going to look on a pike atop your tower?”