Chapter 174. Alternatives
Maisie
An hour later, I was sitting on the couch, alternating between wiping the blood off Mercer’s left eye and Soren’s busted lip. The smell of alcohol on the cotton was as strong as the scent wafting off me in waves.
After nearly tearing down the house, I figured they could clean up after themselves, but I felt oddly protective of them and cleaning their wounds gave me something else to focus on, other than the lust overriding my senses.
Quinlan sighed. "Perhaps I should’ve joined in the fight, just so you can dote on me like that. Look at you. The very picture of a loving wife."
I shot him a glare, but returned my attention back to the gash on Soren’s forehead. There was a piece of glass sticking in there. I shook my head. "So, if I am to understand this ruckus, you’re saying that Margaret Hunt extended you an offer, and her terms were my getting mated to her sons?"
"Amongst other things," Soren grunted. He was distracted, staring at my cleavage, and every time my fingers touched his unusually heated skin, he flinched like it was too much to bear.
I listened as he explained in clear terms what she wanted. He didn’t seem happy about it, especially the proposed courtship period between me and my half-brothers. None of them did, but it was clear they were all in agreement for one thing. They all thought I deserved to know that the offer was at least extended, even if they wanted nothing more than to burn it to ashes.
They sat in silence, the tension hiking up to the roof as they waited.
For me.
"There is no other way to dilute the Queen’s strength than this?" I asked. I wasn’t very great with politics. I didn’t know how and why everyone thought the crown would look great on me. All I knew was how to study.
"She has been pulling strings. The likelihood that we are able to get the crown back with her alive is rather slim," Jericho said. Mercer’s shoulders stiffened at that but Jericho continued, "Revealing your parentage in that manner was a deliberate blow to tear down Soren’s good standing. The court already considers him a reckless airhead for..."
"For marrying me," I finished, ignoring the twinge of sadness I felt on that matter.
Jericho’s expression was tight. "Her terms make it clear she has no plans on stepping down."
Said terms being making me a breeder for the general public audience of Lycan males.
"Getting you pregnant might cement your place as Queen and make the Court more receptive to you," Quinlan said, and he looked disturbed by that. "But we do not trust that if that happens, the Queen won’t switch up the rules again. So long as she wears the crown, she can do whatever the fuck she wants."
I thought hard, and I knew Soren was not going to like what came out of my mouth next. Neither was Mercer.
"And..." I exhaled. "What if... what if there was a way to prove that... Margaret didn’t kill the previous queen?"
Silence descended on the living room area. Four pairs of gazes fixed on me like I was a stranger. The mood was swiftly shifting into something hostile and I added, "While we were sparring, Ryder said something to me that stood out. I’m not saying I believe him. It’s that... he didn’t deny her trying to kill Soren when he was a child. But what he did deny was his mother killing yours. He claimed the Hunts were the next in line to inherit. If that was true, it wouldn’t have made any sense to still murder for the crown."
I left out the insinuation that the Queen might have done it. I also left out the other part of the conversation that I still hadn’t deciphered.
But it didn’t matter.
Soren stood abruptly and for a moment, he seemed to have something to say.
But he just... turned around and left the house without another word.
Oh god.
I stood, throat tight, wanting to apologize, even if I wasn’t sure what for.
"Leave him," Quinlan said. "He’s a little sensitive today, is all."
I swallowed. Should I have phrased it better? Should I have kept my mouth shut instead? I knew this was sensitive for him, but I wasn’t looking to prove Margaret innocent. No. I wasn’t gullible enough to think her innocent.
If Ryder was right and the Queen did this, then maybe there didn’t have to be a war. Or treason. No one had to die. The truth getting out would be more than enough to get her dethroned. But they weren’t open to it.
And I understood why. It wasn’t easy tearing down everything you thought you knew, the very thing that began the foundation of who you were, to accept some opposite reality.
I just wished he understood I wasn’t asking him to do that. Even I didn’t know the truth. But if it would help them, wasn’t it worth looking into?
"And who did Ryder toss the blame at, May?" Mercer said, a silent anger etched on his face. He looked as mean as he used to when we were still hating on each other, and it wasn’t until that it really sank in how differently he looked at me now. And that I didn’t hate him anymore.
It also made me realize the anger wasn’t directed at me. Not really.
Soren might have called Mercer a dog sniffing for attention, but I thought Mercer simply loved his mother. It was like throwing stones at a puppy to get it away from you, but it stuck and followed you everywhere, regardless. Even if it knew you were cruel. Even if you didn’t deserve it.
If Mercer was refusing to take Ryder’s accusation into consideration, it was because he couldn’t fathom a reality where that truth existed, and it had nothing to do with whose lips those words came from.
Mercer flinched. I’d seen too much, read him too accurately, and he drew up from the couch and walked away, too.
Only, halfway across, he turned around and walked back to where I stood, cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead. "She loved her sister. Her sister might have been the only person she’s ever loved," he whispered. His thumb stoked my cheek, but his gaze was far away. "We’ll find some way out of this, but I will take care of Ryder and his lying tongue."
I wished I could’ve claimed surprise that he didn’t believe me. But all it did was build a new drive in me to get to the bottom of it and find out the truth, even if it would hurt them.