Page 36 of Wedlock

“The first game, yes,” she snorts. “The second also, but once again you did something absurd.”

“Who did you select?”

“Let’s just say she lost her head on the first night,” Revna laughs.

“I see,” I join in her laughter, but if she knew what I was really thinking, she’d run.

“Then, you went and chose the redhead,” she sighs. “But…Angelina was never the strongest contender; she was the ordinary girl thrust into an extraordinary world. It’s a hard place for a small country mouse to try to fit into, and a lonely existence as a new mother. And suicide is a terrible thing,” she whispers. “Tragic, really,” she adds, a slow smile spreading across her beautiful face.

‘Ah, so you know I’ve lied about my wife’s condition. Of course you do. Which means the Queen knows I’m lying too…but by thesounds of it, she’s playing along because it neatly fits into her plan. I’ll bet she doesn’t know Mother was the one who chose Angelina for me though…’

“Yes, it is tragic,” I shake my head and return her smile, a quote coming unbidden to mind.

‘What a wicked web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.’

It reminds me that Mother always referred to the Princess as a spider.

“I’ll think on your proposition, Revna, but right now I have other pressing matters to attend to.”

“It isn’t a proposition, Lord Dragonspur, it’s a proposal.”

I nod.

“I’ll think on your proposal.”

‘Although it’s starting to seem more like a royal edict than anything, and if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s being boxed into a corner.’

“Very well,” she sighs, rising. “I expect I’ll see you soon?”

“As soon as I can,” I promise, kissing her thoroughly before spinning her towards the door.

She turns back, her expression haughty at my dismissal.

“Surely I can at least stay the night?

“I wouldn’t let you go home without a thorough fucking,” I smirk. “You know where my suites are.”

She beams at me and leaves, and I shut the door behind her and lean my back wearily against the timber as my eyes fall, once again, to the piles of cards on my desk.

Her offer is tempting. She’s a healthy companion for a vampire, and I’m at no risk of losing my heart to her. Certainly, beinga king consort will keep me a vast distance from any humans, apart from those procured for my diet. I wouldn’t ever even need to share the bed of a human again, because the Princess and I could have pure vampire babies.

Yet her insistence that the Queen had engineered for me to enter The Games as punishment for setting aside her niece, and that she supported me dispensing with Angelina and marrying into The Families, makes me uneasy. The Queen has never been someone my mother or I trusted, and she’s shown herself to be the keeper of many secrets, not the least of which concern my family.

Scowling, I return to my desk.

29

The feeling of relief, of utter and complete joy and freedom, is so sudden and so complete that I burst into tears as I lie on the floor where I’d fallen and writhed, too shattered to even rise.

He’s no longer in my head. No longer controlling me.

Euphoria floods through me, but also fear. I’ve had this feeling before, and it didn’t last. Although my rational mind tells me that somewhere, somehow, Viper is dead, I can’t and won’t allow my fate to swing in the balance, just in case this isn’t so. I must run, but I need help to do so, and it’s a little more complicated since I also have to smuggle out a baby. I know I can’t contact Yin because I told her never to take my calls, and I can’t run back to my family because that’s the first place they’ll look now.Especially if Jag told them that’s where he’d found me. Although I don’t know that he did.

I’m still on the floor, tracing the pattern of the carpet with my finger and thinking through my options now that I can think clearly, when I hear the key turn in the lock.

“About fucking time,” I mutter, assuming Eleanor has finally come to tell me what’s been going on and to impart something, anything, about how Falcon is feeling about Jag’s information.

‘Does he believe it yet? Is he refusing to even entertain it? Does he even care?’