“I was hoping to run into you again,” I admit, changing the subject.
It’s time to take charge of this conversation. Rexton has been leading and weaving between topics, and it’s not productive. The less he knows about me, the better.
Rexton smirks. “Is that so?”
“Of course.” I let my lips curl into an easy smile, the one I perfected during the few years I found myself most attracted to the incubi inside Lust. They’re easy to sleep with, but I wanted them to crave me. I wanted them to crawl after me. This smile was the first step to accomplishing that. “It’s not every day I run into a man who ends our conversation by sliding inside the royal carriage.”
Let Rexton see my interest in his relationship with the royal family. We’re in the kingdom of Greed. I highly doubt it’s unusual to stumble upon a woman looking to further her agenda.
Rexton’s black eyes dart toward my drink, and I resist the urge to stop him as he curls his fingers around the lip of the mug and slides it in his direction. I hate sharing, and I’m thankful the power-dulling sludge I’ve been drinking keeps my wrath at bay as Rexton brings my drink to his mouth and helps himself to a deep gulp.
It takes every bit of mental resolve I possess not to yank it out of his hands.
He sets my mug on the table between us. “And you’re wondering who I am and what my relationship is with the royal family?”
I shrug. “The questions have crossed my mind.”
“At least you’re honest about it,” Rexton says. “Most people pretend not to care about my connections.”
“I already told you I’m not most people.”
“That you have.” Rexton crosses his arms over his chest, his heavy gaze sliding down my figure. He likes our banter. “What if I told you I was betrothed to Princess Amelia?”
I’d say that’s fucking bullshit. There’s no way this man is betrothed to one of Mammon’s children. The queen would never welcome him into her family. He’d weaken her bloodline, and that’s simply unacceptable. Not to mention her shifter blood.
“Princess Amelia is half-shifter,” I point out.
I’m sure of it. Mammon has several children, and they all share the same shifter father.
Rexton nods. “She is.”
“So you can’t possibly be betrothed to her.”
“What do you mean?” Rexton looks genuinely confused.
“Shifters have mates,” I say. “They don’t marry; they mate. You’re not her mate.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You wouldn’t be sitting here with me if you were.”
I’ve spent enough time around shifters to know how territorial they are of their mates. If Rexton were Princess Amelia’s mate, she’d already have me hanging from the rafters.
Rexton doesn’t respond, so I continue.
“She’ll leave you once she finds her mate.”
It’s rude to acknowledge, but it’s true. I’ve seen firsthand how all-encompassing the mate bond is. It makes me so fucking grateful that I don’t have one. I would never thrive under such obsession. It’s one thing to choose a mate as my parents did, but to have one chosenforme? I don’t trust it.
“I appreciate that advice, Luna,” Rexton says.
His words indicate he’s annoyed by my brazenly shared fact, but as I take in his neutral expression and relaxed posture, I realize it’s fake. He’s pretending to be upset that his future wife will leave him.
I pull my mug back to my side of the table, the warmth seeping through into my palms. I hate how cold Greed is, and I can’t fathom how people enjoy living here. I can’t wait to be home.
“You don’t seem to mind.” I sip my drink, letting my words sink in before continuing. “I presume the marriage isn’t a love match.”
I’m making assumptions, but I suspect that’s the only way to get any useful information out of this man. He doesn’t seem particularly keen to offer up his thoughts and feelings, so I’ll pick and pull until I find just the right string to make him unravel.
