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And that he has love to give to a woman, love that he wants to give. But maybe he just…doesn’t know how? How to balance that tender part of him, and the powerful, indomitable leader he wants to be for his pack.
It’s not an easy balancing act, for sure. I’ve only been contemplating leadership for a few days and I can already feel how it tugs things apart inside of you, making you feel only certain parts are allowed to take control.
But I don’t want to be a leader divorced from her heart and Maxim shouldn’t be, either. He’s got a good heart, one that will make him stronger, not weaker.
I truly believe that love makes us strong.
But how to convince my rigid future mate that maybe a little gentleness—with himself and others—is what he needs most?
“Ah, yes!” Maggie says from just over my left shoulder, making me flinch in my chair. I was so sucked into the Maxim zone I didn’t hear her come back into the room. She reaches over my shoulder, tapping the lines I circled. “This part is very important, I think. Good eye.”
Maxim leans over, reading aloud, “A fortnight between the rise and fall, the first to conceive claims it all. The court of shadow or the court of light, only one will stand by the fifteenth night.” He grunts. “Why does all this shit have to rhyme?”
“Because most of this is old enough that for years it was a purely oral tradition,” Maggie says pleasantly, seemingly unfazed by Maxim’s surly side. “It rhymed so it was easier for the bards to remember and set to music. And the period of a fortnight, fourteen days, between the rise and fall is mentioned in several different texts and source materials.”
“Which means?” Maxim asks.
“That if the prophecy has been set in motion, it should all be sorted out fairly quickly. Which is nice, I think,” she says. “Dreading a thing is usually far worse than the thing itself. Though I confess I’d rather not live under the rule of the court of shadow. Sounds unpleasant.”
I sigh. “If it’s anything like my old pack, it absolutely is. I’ve had enough shadow to last two lifetimes.” I glance up at Maggie. “So…how do we know if the fortnight has started?”
“Or if this is all bullshit?” Maxim cuts in. “Prophets have predicted the end of the world at least a dozen times, and so far, we’re all still standing. The Mayans got it wrong. As did several popes, sixteenth century astrologers, and every televangelist trying to sell a doomsday book.”
“Well, we can’t know for sure, can we?” Maggie circles around to the other side of the table. “We can’t know if the fortnight has started, or if there’s anything to start in the first place. But what we do know is that Willow’s sister stole a fertility charm. It seems she thinks the prophecy is real and is making a serious play to be the first to conceive.” She settles carefully into her chair before folding her hands on the table and pinning first Maxim, then me, with a hard look. “So, the next question is—what do you two plan to do about it? Because if the prophecy is real, this thirty-day engagement you’ve agreed on is going to be too little, too late. By the time you get around to banging with a purpose, we’ll all be living in Bane and Kelley’s world. And my gut says a couple willing to set off a bomb in a theater to get what they want is far more likely to be ‘shadowy’ than the two of you, no matter how ambitious and secretly ruthless you both are.”
I sit back in my chair, my brows floating up my forehead. When I steal a glance at Maxim from the corners of my eyes, he looks similarly taken aback.
“I don’t know what’s more disturbing,” he finally says in a faintly amused voice. “Hearing you talk about banging with a purpose or that you called my sweet little fiancée ruthless.”
Maggie laughs. “You’re both sweet. That doesn’t mean you can’t be practical to the point of cruelty when you feel the occasion calls for it. Practicality can be a valuable trait in a leader, but too much of it and you’ll lose your humanity.” She crosses her arms over her full chest and nods her head my way. “As for the other, you’re both adults and about to be married. Would it be so bad to toss the protection and see what happens? Best case scenario, you ward off the forces of evil. Worst case, you have a sweet little pup scampering around underfoot a little sooner than expected.”
I exhale with a shake of my head. “Having a child is a huge decision, Maggie. It’s not something you rush into on a whim. Especially not when you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to keep the baby safe.” I pat the stack of papers in front of me. “And that’s not the worst-case scenario. The worst-case scenario is the prophecy is true, Maxim and I don’t conceive first, and the court of shadow takes over our pack and enslaves our people. Including our child. How can I bring a baby into the world knowing that’s even a possibility?”
“But if the prophecy is true and already set in motion, you won’t have a choice,” Maggie says. “A baby will be born, one way or another. Why not at least attempt to make the stars align in your favor?”
“You believe in this,” Maxim says. “Don’t you? Why?”
Maggie’s lips pucker then press into a tight line.
“Please, speak freely,” Maxim urges after a moment. “I truly want to know. I’m open to being convinced. If there’s evidence that’s sufficiently convincing.”
Maggie sighs and a shadow seems to pass behind her eyes. “This has happened before. Another pair of brothers. Another pair of sisters. Another time, long, long ago. But the records were all wiped clean in the centuries after. All that’s left is the legend of a queen who ruled our people for nearly two hundred years before she was murdered by her guard and a king put in her place. They say she was with child, but never gave birth, that she fed upon the babe’s spirit in exchange for longer life, and that she kept her mate locked away in a dungeon until he passed from moon sickness, mad and frothing for his wolf form.”
Whoa. I fight to keep my face impassive, not wanting to reveal how uncomfortable this story makes me.
Or how it’s hitting home.
I have been having a few fantasies about taking over and locking Maxim in a cell somewhere…
Maggie glances back to me, holding my gaze as she adds, “They say she was driven to extremes by a broken heart, but that never have our people experienced such a golden age as the one she ruled. Art and science and knowledge flourished, and all shifter kind lived in peace. That’s why the wise woman who told me the tale said the story was buried in the past, to keep our women from getting any grand ideas.”
I frown. “I have to confess that doesn’t sound very grand, Maggie. At least not for that poor baby or the man locked in the dungeon.”
“Not grand for the broken-hearted queen, either,” Maggie agrees, “but given no other choice, all the truly great leaders suffer and make sacrifices for their people.” She touches a trembling hand to her throat before adding in a more urgent whisper, “So, best hurry and decide what you’re willing to sacrifice, young ones. You can have peace in your mate bond and your rule, but only if you work together. If you truly honor and trust one another. If your love falters, you’ll welcome chaos in through the front door.” She swallows and sits up straighter, bringing her shaking hands to rest, palms-down, on the table. “Now, I hope you’ll forgive my swift exit. I had no choice but to help your sister steal those objects, Willow. She has my granddaughter, and she promised to kill her if I didn’t cooperate.”
A startled sound gurgles from my throat as Maxim stands swiftly, sending his chair skidding back across the wooden floor.
“But everything I told you and showed you is true,” Maggie continues, beginning to shake all over. “And I’ll be rooting for you. Wherever I… Wherever…” She breaks off with a gasp and begins to convulse so violently she slides out of her chair.
