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“I never gave any thought to a total number. At the moment, I’m more focused on that first heir. And of course, we’ll need backups.”
“You’re talking about your children.” His cavalier attitude doesn’t sit well with me. “But it sounds like you’re thinking of them as a means to an end.”
“I’m thinking practically.” He drums his fingers on the tabletop. “I get the sense that you’re going to be more emotional on these topics.”
Is he kidding? “A person is supposed to be emotional about their kids.”
“I’m sure I will be. People tend to have great affection for their offspring, and it would be strange for me to be immune to that.” He considers for a moment. “You’re not equally emotional about me, are you?”
It’s like he’s making sure I’m not getting attached, and it causes a huge pit to open up in my stomach, one that can’t be filled with food. I might as well tell him exactly how I feel about him, since he’s basically invited me to. “I have some feelings about you. But as I said, I don’t know you. From our interactions so far, it’s obvious that you can be a kind person. But you can also be arrogant, possessive, and you callously disregard people when they aren’t useful to you.”
He nods slowly. “I suppose that’s a fair assessment.”
“And closed off,” I add. “As I said before, I don’t know you. I’m married to you, and I don’t know your middle name—”
“Richard.”
“—or how old you are—”
“Forty-three.”
“That’s not the point.” I take a breath to quell my rising exasperation. “Those are superficial details that people learn within weeks of meeting each other. They know them before they end up fucking in a dirt hole and sharing a raw rabbit together.”
He smiles. “You’re very charming.”
The connection that binds us flares up in me. I ignore it. “Stop that.”
“Would you like to hear my assessment of you?” he asks. “I think it’s only fair.”
“Fire away.” I’m less confident than my answer suggests. What if he says I’m a brat and he can’t stand to be near me?
“You’re funny. I don’t think it’s intentional. You aren’t ‘on.’ You’re smart, but you’re reckless, hence your stunt before the council. How’s your face, by the way?”
I reach up to touch the bruise from where Ashton hit me. It’s fading fast, owing to my transformation, but it’s still tender. “It’s fine.”
“You’re a bad liar.” He winks. “I would suggest practicing that.”
“How do I practice lying?” That sounds awful.
“You don’t have to be malicious. Make up something outrageous and try it out on a thrall. Tell them you’ve performed in Cirque in Las Vegas, it doesn’t matter. But you need to be able to lie convincingly to be queen.” He leans forward slightly. “A trick I use is to simply believe that what I’m saying is the truth.”
Well, that’s an alarming thing to hear from one’s mate. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He understands my double meaning, I can tell from his amused expression. “How many pancakes is that now?”
Probably fifteen. It’s a good time to practice that wild lie. “Just two.”
He beams with pride. “You’ll be a professional in no time.”
“You know, I lied to get Ashton over to the house,” I say. “And he believed me.”
All the friendliness drains out of the room. Nathan’s face turns to stone. “And look how well that turned out.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Sure, my plan ended up backfiring when it was pointed out to the council that it was technically entrapment, but Nathan had gotten the votes he needed to keep me.
“After you left the chamber, do you know what Ashton’s barrister argued?” Nathan pauses for an answer he knows I can’t give; we have haven’t spoken since my transformation. “They argued that there was no way to prove that Ashton acted in ignorance of the law, but the fact that he was willing to endanger his claim out of fear for your well-being was proof that he valued you more.”
That’s absurd. I have a purple stripe on my cheek that says otherwise. “There’s a recording of him hitting me.”
“There’s a muffled recording of the inside of your pocket during a struggle. There’s no proof at all that he hit you, and he has no history of violence within the pack. They claimed that I beat you, here in the residence.” Nathan’s disgust is evident in his tone, in the way he clenches his jaw for a moment in silence. “It was your friend on the council who spoke up. He testified to seeing you after I left, and that you had no mark and didn’t mention any violence.”
If Ryan hadn’t gotten that council seat... “How close was the vote?” I ask softly, suddenly not hungry anymore.
“Thirteen to twelve. I almost lost you.”
It astonishes me that Nathan seems wholly uninterested in me as a human being but devoted to me as a mate. I would feel objectified, or like I’m property, if he didn’t feel so genuinely consumed by our unexplained tie when we we’re together. There’s something between us, and while I wouldn’t call it love, it’s something powerful enough that I know he truly cares.
