Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I refuse to dwell on how toxic an excuse that is.
“You didn’t lose me, though,” I say, so chipper I annoy myself. “And all that strife is in the past.”
“There will be new strife any day now.” It sounds like a joke, but I know he’s serious.
“I assume the council’s decision hasn’t made you more friends?” It’s a little—okay, a lot—scary to become queen of a pack that’s not psyched about its king.
“Your assumption is correct.” He sips his coffee and motions to a nearby thrall to top off his cup.
“Be honest,” I begin, though I wouldn’t know the difference if he wasn’t. “Are we in danger?”
“You’re never in danger, as long as I’m around.” He thanks the thrall and reaches for the small porcelain creamer. “And that’s not a lie.”
It isn’t a straight answer, either. “You can tell me things. I promise, I won’t go rogue again. Any political action I take, I’ll run it past you first.”
A smile slants across his beautiful mouth. “Now, who’s being dishonest?”
He gulps down his coffee with a grimace, then pushes back his chair. “I have a busy day. The allies we have must be kept happy, those who oppose us must be courted or bribed.”
That sounds like royal business. “Don’t you need me for that?”
“The thralls may refer to you as Your Majesty, but you’re not queen in an official capacity,” he explains gently. “I promise, after your coronation, you’ll be more involved in the running of the pack. I chose you as my queen because I see your potential. Not just for the twenty children you’ll bear me.”
“Not funny,” I remind him, and I don’t crack a smile at all. He can stop making those jokes at any time.
“All right, message received.” He leans down to kiss my forehead. “But I would like you to pay attention to your cycle. Let my secretary know your fertile days, so I’ll be sure not to travel over them.”
He’s going to do a bunch of traveling and not take me? His mate? That’s going to cause an argument in the future.
“Of course, we don’t have to confine our meetings to those days.” He heads toward the door, stopping to add, “I did enjoy having breakfast with you. We must do this again.”
“We could make a regular thing of it,” I say sarcastically. In what world wouldn’t a married couple have breakfast together?
But he doesn’t seem to interpret it as sarcasm, so much as a good idea. “I like it. I’ll have my secretary note it.”
His secretary sounds like a third party in our relationship. That will be fun.
“Wait, Nathan,” I call to him just as he exits, and to my relief he comes back. I feel silly and shy about asking, but, “I need your number.”
“Amanda has the number for my secretary,” he reminds me with a bemused frown.
“Right, but if I needed to text you or call you...” I trail off, perplexed at why I have to explain to my own husband why I want his cell number.
“Why would you need to call or text?” he asks. “Amanda has my secretary’s number.”
I open my mouth, but I get what’s happening. For some reason, my mate doesn’t want me to contact him.
“Right,” I say, pretending I’m having a ditzy moment. “I’ll just get in touch through Amanda. And your secretary.”
He gives me a smile, says, “I’ll see you soon,” and leaves.
The last time he said that I didn’t know where he was for two days. I have a feeling that I’m not going to get to know Nathan Frost any better.
CHAPTER 27
When I was a little girl, I sometimes wondered what life was like for Cinderella after she married the prince and her wicked stepmother was punished. The story ended after all the exciting parts; did that mean nothing ever happened to her again? It’s starting to feel like that was the case.
Aconitum Hall has no shortage of diversions. Televisions in nearly every room, a glorious, multi-room pool in the basement, a library with more books than we had at the academy, and of course, internet access.
Werewolves are feudal, but not completely stone aged.
There are only so many episodes of syndicated television I can watch, though, and only so many social media sites I can scroll before I’m intensely bored in a too-quiet house. I call Hannah, and she answers on the first ring.
“Is everything okay? You never call me,” she says in lieu of hello.
“Sorry, I know.” I can count on one hand the number of times Hannah and I have spoken on the phone since I returned. “I didn’t mean to alarm you, I just wanted to make sure you dropped everything to talk to me.”
She laughs. “I have to drop everything for you, Your Majesty.”
“Not Your Majesty yet.” I’m glad she can’t see my eye roll. I’m annoyed at myself for being annoyed by Nathan’s earlier remark. “But you should drop everything and come over. I’m super bored.”