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We’re not like them, though. We’re not spending the pack’s cash and plunging our kingdom into miserable poverty.
I’m actually not sure what we were trying to do.
I struggle to sit up a little, and tuck my feet on either side of Nathan’s thighs. “Look… we’re in a perilous position, right?”
He nods. “I would say that’s an accurate description.”
“Maybe you could clue me in on what your intent was when you became king of both packs. And made me queen of them both?” As someone who grew up in the Toronto pack and who had heard rumblings of distrust toward other packs, including Greater London, I can’t help but feel like a traitor.
Like my family.
“I didn’t have any intentions at all,” Nathan says with a shrug. “When my father died, I knew I would eventually inherit his brother’s throne. I’m the only suitable heir.”
I hold up my hand. “Stop. Back up. Explain ‘suitable’.”
He blinks in what appears to be shock.
“You didn’t say you were the only heir. You said you were the only suitable one. That means there are others out there. And if there are other heirs out there, that means our reign is threatened.”
“It isn’t,” he assures me. “Archie had one son, and he was badly injured in a skiing accident forty years ago. He’s been in a nursing facility ever since.”
“And nobody is going to take up his banner in order to oust us?” I need a definitive answer to this question, considering everything that’s going on back in Toronto.
Nathan shakes his head. “No. When Archibald named me his heir, the council of Greater London unanimously accepted the change.”
“Then our biggest issue is the Saint-Laurent pack?”
“The biggest issue is the Toronto pack,” Nathan says grimly. “And then the Saint-Laurent pack.”
“Why go back there, then?” If nobody in England wants to murder us, surely, it’s safer to stay here. “Why not stay in friendly territory?”
“Because in a coup, you never leave the seat of power.” He pauses. “I’m not certain coming here was wise. As soon as we hear from Jonah, we’ll be on the jet and back to Canada.”
“Where people want to kill us.” It seems unfair that they want to kill me. I got roped into this mostly against my will.
Mostly, because while I might not have wanted the crown, I definitely wanted Nathan. And I still do, against all reason and sanity.
“We’ll up security measures,” he promises. “And I’m having your bodyguard join us here. She’s been vetted by my personal security forces. The thralls here at Wyrding House haven’t.”
“But your security forces are thralls. Xiao is a thrall,” I remind him “And thralls might have put this spell on us.”
“Xiao saved your life. And she’s the one who told us about the binding. She’s proved her loyalty.” He pauses. “She could be useful to us, in that regard.”
“I’m not a fan of reducing people to their usefulness.” I suppose it’s just part of being a leader, but I don’t have to like it. “On the other hand, I suppose her telling us about the binding shows she’s loyal to the pack, not loyal to thralls who might be plotting against us.”
“And we have no proof yet that they are. That’s where Xiao might be able to help us. If she’s willing to be our eyes and ears—”
“Willing to snitch.”
He ignores my correction. “—we might be able to discern exactly what kind of problem, and what scale, we’re dealing with.”
“But I don’t have to trick her into revealing anything, right?” I’m not sure I could, anyway. “I don’t like manipulating people and I don’t want to be fake. Especially not to a person who saved my life.”
“Then be direct with her. Ask her for her help outright. That way, there’s no dishonesty between the two of you.” The tub jets reach the end of their timer, and Nathan sighs deeply. “I think that’s a sign that our bath is finished.”
“Does it have to be?” I laugh tiredly. The caffeine is rapidly wearing off. “Can’t we just sleep in here?”
“Only if you’d like to drown.” He stands and steps out, water cascading over every muscle. He offers me his hand. “I’d prefer that you didn’t, though.”
I waggle my fingers at him. “I kinda need this free to get up.”
“Oh, of course,” he says sheepishly, waiting for me to push up and grip the edge of the tub for balance before slipping his arm beneath my hand-less one to steady me.
“Thanks,” I say as I set my feet on the plush bathmat. Nathan gets a towel from the artful stack of them in a nearby basket and wraps it around his hips. The motion draws my eye not only to the sharply defined L-shaped ridges there, but also the pink, puckered scar that nearly bisects his abdomen. He catches me staring, so I divert my attention to his abs, trailing one finger down the deep vertical line to his belly button. “You’re really bouncing back.”
