Page 53 of Wedlock
“Luck is preparation meets opportunity,” I say quietly, “and I’m both prepared and opportunistic.”
“Get to the point, your words bore me.”
“If you don’t help me I’m prepared to tell Eleanor you were aligned with Viper, and I’ll take the opportunity to tell Falcon that you killed his brother.”
Her sword clatters to the stone floor as she launches herself at me.
Gasping in surprise as she pins me to the table with her weight, my hands imprisoned above my head, I try to babble my way out of the position I’ve put myself in.
“Don’t do it. You won’t get away with it.”
“I’m going to enjoy this,” she grins, her fangs running all the way down to her chin, “And I will get away with it. I’mverygood at covering my tracks.”
“Not that good,” a dry voice says from near the sweets cupboard.
38
I watch her car pull away, her tearful face at the window, eyes pleading with me to change my mind.
Two women banished this week — my mother from my castle, the Princess from my future. Both had been manipulating me for centuries, and it was high time I put an end to their bullshit.
But it wasn’t just for this reason that I’d sent them away. Mother needed time away to think about her actions, and the Princess needed to stop thinking about me altogether, stop waiting for me, and find a more suitable groom. Hopefully, the intrigues of the Court and Queen Cunt would settle down too if both these women were fixated on other issues — like their survival.
I’d channelled my father when banishing Mother. I’d threatened to either dungeon her eternally or send her to a nunnery. She’d chosen a Swedish spa, so clearly I hadn’t channelled quite as well as I’d thought. But regardless, she was gone.
As for the Princess, she’d simply refused to accept my threats, which was pretty typical of Revna. But given that one way or the other I wasn’t going to come back from my quest to Spider’s estate, either killed by his hand, or executed by the Queen, I don’t see she has much choice. And even if, by some strange twist of fate the Queen discovered what I’d done and accepted my reasons for destroying Spider once and for all, and didn’t execute me, Revna has a deadline for marriage. I’m sure my trial and court proceedings will tie up a decade or two, at least. I’m confident I can keep her away well past that, and she’ll be forced to marry another.
As for the only other woman in my life, she’s avoided me since the night I’d told her I would claim her son as my own.
But that night I’d also faced somethingI’dbeen avoiding ever since her return to my castle.
Despite what she’d done, or been forced to do, despite her assertions she never loved me, wanted no part of me or my life, I love her still.
39
Lying on the table, still too shocked to move after Asumpta’s attack, I breathe his name like a benediction as he saunters close and holds his hand out to help me up.
“Jag.”
His eyes, warm as always, yet also holding a wariness I’ve never seen before, meet mine as I take his hand and sit up, one hand flying to my neck gingerly, but thankfully not coming away wet.
‘That was close. Too close. I’ve got to stop putting myself in compromising positions with these fucking vampires.’
Even as I think this I know the vampire before me would be an exception to that rule.
“Are you hurt?”
“No,” I smile shakily as I give his hand a quick squeeze, frowning as he withdraws it hastily and steps back.
I can’t help feeling hurt. I know I’ve treated him terribly, seduced him, whispered sweet nothings, confessed undying love. Hell, I’d even told him the child I bore was his. There’s no excuse for any of it. Except, there is. It wasn’t really me saying or doing all those things. But that doesn’t matter now as I look at him, this man who’d risked everything for me. Because it may not have been me, but all along itwasreally him.
“Jag, can you ever forgive me?” I whisper, moving closer to try and meet his eyes.
“There’s nothing to forgive,” he says gruffly, looking away from me and over to where Asumpta is preparing to slink from the room.
“Asumpta!”
She pauses mid-step and turns to him.
