Page 66 of Drama Queen

Become their new "queen."

“I’m just worried about you, is all. They've been the family's rivals since before you were born, Jean.”

I flicked open the compact I’d brought along as well, dragging a pinky under my eye to clean up just the hint of smudge from my eyeliner.

“When Cane Cartalga, ruling Alpha of all of Warchester, offers a chance, you would be a fool to turn him down. And one not long for this world as well.”

There was just silence after that. Bronte knew as well as I did how this was going to go. I was going to save what remained of my family, carry on his legacy as his Mea Luna Queen, and maybe find some happiness in there somewhere.

I’d heard the rumors spread about the Cartalga family since before I understood what they meant. And that reputation for multi-person units within the pack was promising. If I had to deal with the brash, renowned-for-his-violence Cane, then perhaps I could at least find some companionship in one of his betas.

The car pulled to a stop, and I waited for Bronte to circle around to open my door. I was more than capable of getting the thing for myself, but his station as my beta was the last thing he had. I couldn’t take that away from him.

When he did, Bronte offered his hand, and I took it with a sorrowful smile. Neither of us spoke, and when I was standing before the massive estate–the stone building looking like it had been airlifted straight for Europe–I straightened my spine, putting on the best resting bitch face that I could manage.

“Time to go to work.”

Unfortunately, there was no way I could be prepared for what awaited me when I walked up the luxurious front steps to the gargantuan double doors. The moment I stepped into the Cartalga Family House, my body went haywire. That scent thatI'd picked up just once before was everywhere—cinnamon and old paper and pine.

Mine.

Oh, fucking hell. This was not what I needed. At this rate, I'd go into heat just by the smell alone, and placing the scent brought me back to the one time I’d met Cane previously. He’d come to the house, seeking out my father, and just like before, I couldn’t stop my brain from screaming out the call for him.

Mine

“Quiet, you,” I mumbled under my breath. I would not be going into heat or reacting to this ridiculous mating call one fucking bit.

It was just a bit of hormonal nonsense, after all. Scent matches didn’t really exist, and I wasn’t about to find mine in Cane fucking Cartalga. No, sir. Not even if behind that spicy scent, there was a fainter smell of leather and wood and maybe…frosting? Sweet wine? All of which made my mind double and triple down on its silent claim.

It’s nothing. You’re probably hungry, for fuck’s sake.

Seconds after entering, a butler in an impeccable suit greeted me at the door. “Thank you for coming, Ms. Bruchelli. If you’ll follow me, I will take you to the dressing chamber, where the attendants will assist you with readying yourself for today’s merger.”

I nodded once, offering a stern, nondescript expression. I knew exactly what I was signing up for, and I wasn’t about to act like some simpering fool just because the head of the Cartalga family had been interested in striking up an alliance with my family as opposed to destroying it.

The long hallway to the dressing chambers was beyond grand, with a checkerboard floor design covering the entire length of the hall in white and gold squares. My Louboutin heels clicked on the exquisite marble, and some small part of me wasglad that despite everything else waiting for me, I’d been allowed to wear them.

These were the first splurge item I’d bought myself, and the Apostropha Petunia heels, with their floral, lace-like design, would certainly be appropriate for the day’s events. And the heels weren’t enormously high, either.

Beating against the floor in time with my hasty pulse, my steps carried me through another long hall as I tried behind the butler. Here, the ceilings stretched at least fifteen feet high, and there was a long river of turquoise that ran down the center of the floor. The water was so still and immaculate that it took me several minutes to realize that it was actually real and not a construction of teal marble.

It was barely wide enough to fit a person, but the long pool ran down the entire length of the hall and continued around the corner somewhere unseen.

Gold detailing and marble tilework covered the bottom of the water feature, reflecting the gold trim that covered every inch of the intricate filigree and crown molding throughout the house. Glowing sconces lit the hallway every few feet in combination with massive chandeliers that hung from the ornate ceiling–more accents of gold with large oval dials set into it, all backed with a teal that matched the tiles beneath the water.

I was brought into a room similarly decked out with massive white walls and gold filigree accents. The ceiling rose ever higher here and featured two enormous skylight-like windows at the very top. Bars of gold ran through them in perfectly straight patterns, even in the circular window, and arched windows ran around the room on every wall.

They all came together to create a space that was bursting with light, which was a good thing since there were not one but three ornamental trees growing in large pots scattered through the room. Their leaves were a soft white like the wall, and I knewthey had to be the singular variety that the Cartalga family had preserved since the days of the ancient packs.

There were two oversized, tufted couches and a giant chair on three of the walls and a massive, California king-sized bed on the fourth. There was a balcony of sorts overlooking the bedroom area, where I could just make out a sitting area with several shelves full of books, and the floors reminded me of cracked pottery repaired with gold, veins of the stuff running through the white marble in immense, sporadic patterns.

“Please make yourself comfortable. I shall send the attendants to the guest suite now to help you with your attire.”

The butler left, and I scoffed under my breath.Of course, it’s just a guest suite. Jesus.

Reaching up, I slid a finger beneath the collar of my shirt, pulling it away from my skin. It was damn hot in here, and the suit that I’d chosen suddenly felt too constricting, damn near suffocating. I took off the jacket, draping it over the back of the chair in front of the massive vanity that sat next to the bed.

Before I could get comfortable on one of the loungers, the door to the suite opened, and a gaggle of beta women entered and began fluttering around me. They prodded and pulled at my clothes, maneuvering me into a champagne-colored silk robe and the chair at the vanity faster than I could process.

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