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“What?” she spluttered, shaking her head. “I—no. I mean, I don’t know how to handle this. When I agreed to all of this, my only thought was survival. I never really thought about babies until Bianca said it. It’s all the Alpha Supreme ever focused on in Fire and Fluorite, so naturally, it’s something that makes sense that all Houses would think about it. And Blood and Beryl would be no different. It just brings up a rather large gap in our relationship.” She paused, looking up at the sky. A moment later, she snapped her head in my direction. “Wait, you’ve already thought about this, haven’t you?”
“Ysa brought it up to me,” I answered, looking down at my fingernails and picking at them. “I know what we have here is . . . let’s call it unconventional, but I’m not opposed to trying for one in some future state.” Again, such a mild, almost borderline lie. If I told her the extent to which I thought about her, though . . .
“Wait, what?”
“We’re going to be mated to each other in name, and that means we can’t take other partners. There are perks to the arrangement if we wanted to have them.”
She stared at me blankly for a moment, her mouth hanging open. “That’s . . . a big reversal from not wanting to complicate things. You said you wanted a business arrangement.”
“It’s a potential risk I’m willing to take,” I said, testing the waters further.
“Why now?” she demanded. “We barely know each other,” she whispered. She sounded like she was defending her stance, but she didn’t have the full weight behind her words. I’d heard her stand up for what she believed in. This? This was different. There was something there too. I wasn’t misreading it.
“Because you intrigue me. I like being with you.”
She looked away, almost disappointed. “This isn’t real. You said it yourself.” Again with that word. Real. She sighed deeply, then reached for my flask that sat on the blanket between us. “If we’re having this conversation, I need a swig of that.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, stretching my arm out to take it back from her.
“Why not? I drink,” she stated defensively, bringing it to her mouth.
“Unless you’ve just developed a penchant for blood and whiskey, I very much doubt you drink this.” I ran my tongue over the point of my fang right as her lips wrapped around the opening.
“Oh, shit,” she said quickly, trying to move it away from her face as fast as possible. She handed it back to me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, holding the flask up. “I just did.”
“A little late,” she said, digging through the backpack and looking for another flask. When she found one, she held it up and cocked her head, as if asking if this one was blood-free. I dipped my chin, and she unscrewed the lid, knocking a mouthful back before she swallowed, following it up with a cough. She shook her head, clearing away the burn.
“Maybe this is a conversation for another time.” Her discomfort proved I was on the verge of saying the wrong thing, and she gave me a tight smile in return. I cleared my throat, changing course. “Find your purpose within Blood and Beryl, Danni. Focus on taking that role. I have no doubts you’ll do well.”
Leaning forward, she put her head in her hands, running her fingers through her silvery-white strands. “That brings up another thing,” she said, exasperation filling her tone. She stood, walking to the shore at the water’s edge. Picking up a rock, she threw it into the lake, attempting to skip it. “When does that officially happen? Do I just start calling myself ‘Queen’ one day in front of the High Court? Is there like a . . . ceremony? How is that done?”
I got up off the blanket, wiping my hands on my jeans, and headed to stand beside her. “Publicly.”
“Well, I assumed so?—”
“No, I mean the consummation is public.” I picked up a stone, examining the shape of it.
Color drained from her skin. “I—We can’t . . . Are you serious?”
“Not in the slightest.” I angled my stance, flicking my wrist as I flung the stone. It skipped over the water’s surface, hopping from one spot to the next. Turning to her, I continued. “But using humor to deflect seems to be helpful when you get yourself worked up over something.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, but her lips curved into a smile.
I winked at her.
She pointed at me in jest, reaching down to grab another rock. “So what is it, if not a public sexfest?”
I snorted. “It’s similar to the proposal in the High Court.”
“Which you didn’t warn me about,” she chided. She turned her wrist at a bad angle, throwing the rock. Instead of skipping across the water, the stone plopped in with an audible splash, then sunk.
“I wanted to see how you’d react.” Picking up another stone, I placed it in her hand, silently wrapping her index finger and thumb around it. “Here,” I said, standing behind her, pressing my chest against her back, curving my arm down the length of hers until my hand was on top.
She stilled. The scent of orange and peppermint filled my senses. It was intense, pushing my thoughts into a new realm. I tilted my head toward her, whispering as my lips grazed her earlobe. “We say some words, you’re crowned queen, we make some promises, the day moves on.”
I mimicked the slow-motion movement of the toss, our bodies shifting as I imitated the side throw. Her breath stuttered at the friction. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” She swallowed thickly. “That’s all?”
