Page 131 of Wedlock
“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?”
He grins as I snort and drain my drink, rising to get another.
“There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just get to the point.”
“Is this about the Princess? I assure you she’s going to keep her mouth shut and her plans to further attack Angie on hiatus in the short term, at least. I offered her multiple incentives to do so.”
“You mean you hinted she’d still have a chance with me.”
He shrugs.
We both look up, Wolf surprised, me relieved, as Jag saunters in.
“Better late than never,” I snort.
“You called, I came,” he shrugs, “as it ever was. I stopped by the kitchens to see Lynx.”
“And get a treat,” Wolf chuckles, pointing to the cake in Jag’s hand.
“Of course you did,” I raise an annoyed eyebrow.
“What’s this about, Falcon?” Wolf leans forward in his chair, suddenly aware, no doubt, that if I’ve called Jaguar here, it must be important.
“Mother has revealed something to me. A great many things, actually, but there is one fact that pertains especially to you. It’s a matter of lore that is usually hidden from the sons of the great houses. Until they marry and have a daughter, that is, and sometimes, even then.” The bitter taste in the back of my throat that rose when Mother first admitted her knowledge to me,returns, and I swallow hard. “It affects us all, but you especially, Wolf, I fear.”
“Go on,” he frowns.
“All first-born daughters of the great houses are taken when they turn three,” I shake my head to stop his interruption. “They’re taken by The Families to be used as templates.”
“What the hell is a template?” Jag scowls.
By the time I’m finished explaining, both he and Wolf are speechless, Wolf staring into the fire, Jaguar watching me with a strange expression on his face.
Finally, Jag breaks the silence.
“Your mother presumably had a reason for telling you this now, centuries after your own sister was taken?”
“Yes,” I snarl. “The Families prize one type of template higher than all others. I think you can guess where I’m going with this. Mymotherchose Angie because of her fae blood. Moreover, she planned to use any future firstborn daughter, in league with the Free Men, to take the crown.”
“How the fuck was she going to swingthat?” Jag snorts.
“She was planning on having any daughter I might have sired promised to the prince regent.”
“And?” he frowns.
“And she and The Free Men, with help from court insiders who support that organisation, would kill the old queen before she could jump skins and use my daughter as a template.”
“Essentially making your daughter the new queen,” Jag murmurs. “An entirely new queen.”
“Yes. Mother’s aim, with the backing of The Free Men, was to then have the Queen change laws to aid humanity. Banthe Games, free womankind from hupotasso and generally undermine vampire control of the world one dynasty at a time.”
“A bold plan,” Jag says quietly. “With one major drawback.”
“Yes,” I nod. “My daughter would have to be taken at the age of three to wherever they keep the templates and essentially brainwashed for her purpose. And there was never any guarantee the plan would come to fruition and the Queen would be dispatched in time.”
“She was going to sacrifice a child of yours, her own granddaughter, for this mad scheme?” Jag stares at me in disbelief. “And how did this heinous plan come to light?”
“Angie,” I sigh.
