Once rejected twice shy, p.18
Once Rejected, Twice Shy, page 18
“Wow. That’s a lot of pressure.”
He nodded once. “It is.”
“I’ve never led anything in my life.”
“If you were a wolf, I’d say go with your gut. The fae, however, do not feel as strongly as we do about intuition.”
“Interesting.” She stepped out of the water onto the damp sand and made her way back to the porch. “Might as well get started. How do I call a meeting? Where do we meet?”
Mikail fell into step next to her. “You do not have to do it right this minute. You can relax, get adjusted first.”
“It’ll take me years to adjust to this place. Might as well wait to do it until I’m in the castle.”
“You could still relax for a bit.”
She arched her brows. “Are you going to relax with me?”
Holding her breath, she waited for his response, knowing damn well he’d understand exactly what she meant.
Without looking at her, he said, “I cannot. I must—”
She exhaled, disappointed and hating herself for hoping. “Fine. How do I call a meeting? Also, how do I change out of this getup? It’s cool and all, but I’d rather wear something a little more comfortable if I’m about to start planning a war.”
Something flickered in Mikail’s eyes. She wanted to call it respect, but that was probably her gut talking, and apparently, she wasn’t supposed to listen to it, since she was a faery and all.
After a long moment of silence, save the crashing of waves against the sand, Mikail partially turned and waved the closest Warrior forward. Once she was within hearing distance, he said, “The queen wishes to meet with the council. See that it happens.”
The Warrior nodded once and strode away.
He then caught the eye of a servant hovering near the door to the hut. “The queen requires Dorin’s assistance.”
The servant scurried away.
“Now that will take some getting used to.”
“What?”
“Simply saying ‘the queen requires’ and magically, people rush to do my bidding.”
Mikail chuckled. She wanted to keep bantering, keep throwing out quips just to hear the sound again.
Instead, she said, “I really can change my own clothes. I’ve been doing it for forty years, give or take. I just need to know where my clothes are.” She paused. “Wait, do I have to go to that changing hut every time I want to get dressed?”
“That is the preparation room for formal events, such as your speech or a ceremony of some kind. Your everyday clothes are here somewhere. Normally, to meet with your council, you’d dress formally, but I have a feeling I cannot talk you into it right now.”
“Nope. It’s time for yoga pants and a T-shirt.”
“You will be out of luck, I’m afraid. Neither of those garments exist here.”
“I can ensure our queen looks the part of council leader while also enjoying her comfort.”
Faith whipped her head up to see Dorin standing in the doorway, his finger raised, his stance cocky.
She grinned. “Let’s do this.”
The process of dressing her for the council meeting wasn’t nearly as long as it took to make her presentable for her first appearance in front of her new subjects. Dorin pooh-poohed her when she mentioned it.
“Those crotchety old grumps aren’t deserving of my best work.”
Faith arched her brows while he pulled a tunic over her head and then used his magic to tuck and tighten it in exactly the right places. “Doesn’t sound like you approve of the council.”
Dorin bowed his head once. “My apologies for speaking too freely, my queen.”
“No, please do. Tell me what I’m getting into.”
“They are tedious, really. That is all. Half of them do not like change, and all they want is for things to return to the way they used to be. Then there is a faction who are more open to making adjustments to our lifestyle, although they haven’t a clue how to make it happen other than to go to war with Zydeco, of course.”
He paused to glance at Faith through his lashes and then grinned when she laughed.
“And then there are the others who not-so-secretly approve of Zydeco’s plan to send the wolves away to their own kingdom.”
She knew Mikail’s take on things. And Preston’s. And she assumed Dru felt the same as the two of them. She had yet to get a faery’s opinion on her opponent’s goals for their world.
“Won’t that make us vulnerable?” she asked.
Dorin lifted one shoulder and fussed with her hair. “Those who disagree would have you believe as much. And the wolves who don’t actually want to leave will say that as well. To be honest, no one really knows. We have lived together for as long as any living person has been around. For every theory that the wolves came from some other world, there are as many theories that insist we’ve always lived together in this one. Everyone knows that when you combine a wolf’s brute strength and a faery’s magic, they are an incredibly powerful weapon. But they’ve never been pitted against each other.”
“So basically, the politics here are just as convoluted as in the human world,” Faith said dryly.
“They are,” Mikail agreed, stepping into her dressing room. She watched through the looking glass as his gaze swept over her person, and she waited for a reaction that didn’t come.
He had been attracted to her, once. No, twice. Otherwise, he’d never have slept with her. And while she’d been able to handle his attempts at giving her the cold shoulder while they were in the human world, her confidence was waning now that they were surrounded by faeries and wolves—his own kind. People he was used to. People he was normally attracted to.
In the human world, she’d been the only faery in his life, so it was perfectly natural that he would be attracted to her. Now there was plenty of competition for his affection.
Except that wasn’t the case; if anything, Mikail’s insistence that fae and wolves not interact romantically has only gotten stronger since they crossed through the veil.
Despite Preston and Sonara’s public relationship.
Dorin studied her face and furrowed his brows, and Faith lifted her chin and refused to look at Mikail, standing just inside the door, appearing entirely too elegant and tough all at the same time.
“The council has gathered,” Mikail announced.
Dorin made one last adjustment and slipped out of the room. Mikail waited, seemingly patiently, for her to turn toward him and allow him to escort her to the meeting.
Damn it, she should have chosen Preston as her Lead Watcher. She’d hadn’t realized how frequently she’d be forced to endure Mikail’s company while he steadily ignored what she had thought was blooming between them. Okay, if she were honest with herself, that had been exactly why she’d chosen Mikail. She’d hoped all the close proximity would encourage him to admit that he wanted to continue their affair.
“It cannot be,” he murmured when she finally stood before him. “You are a queen now. And a faery.”
How the hell did he always know what she was thinking? “That whole separation of the species is an antiquated rule.”
“You’re letting Preston and Sonara get into your head. That’s a dangerous game, Faith. Do not rule by your emotions.”
She lifted her chin another notch. Fine if he wanted to play it that way. “I believe the title is my queen?”
He pursed his lips and then nodded curtly. “My queen.” He paused for a heartbeat. “Allow me to escort you to the meeting.”
The meeting was held inside yet another hut, just large enough to hold a table and seven chairs. A platter of finger foods and a couple of pitchers of water had been set up in the middle of the oval table. There were no servants hovering, and for a scant moment, one of the members attempted to stand up to Mikail, telling him he must stand sentry outside the door, not in the room.
Mikail glowered at him and remained where he was, keeping watch just inside the door.
And then the meeting proceeded exactly as Dorin had warned. Once she passed the second century mark, would she, too, be as set in her ways as some of these faeries on her council? Although, to be fair, a few were equally vocal in insisting they needed to change their ways to avoid something like this happening in the future. When pressed, however, none of them could give a concrete answer regarding exactly what sort of change they were looking for.
And the ones Dorin warned supported Zadkiel’s idea of separating the wolves and fae?
“It is not an altogether bad idea,” one faery boldly announced, casting a swift glance at Mikail.
Her Lead Watcher had deliberately selected a seat near the door for her, not with her back to the escape route but close enough to get to it quickly if need be. She was also able to see his face while she fought to maintain control of what she had by now determined was a completely pointless meeting. Not that she was opposed to hearing people’s opinions—hell, she needed to hear their opinions, considering her lack of knowledge of this world—but no one had any solutions to bring to the table. Except going to war with Zadkiel, of course.
Faith would prefer to avoid an out-and-out war if possible.
“It is Zadkiel’s idea,” another fae snapped back, pounding his fist on the table for emphasis.
“He isn’t the first one to think in such a way,” the separationist said. “He is simply the first to say it out loud.”
That was interesting. This low simmering feud between the fae and wolves wasn’t new? Mikail had not given her that impression.
The separationist flapped his hand in Mikail’s direction. “We already refuse to let ourselves interbreed. This is the next natural progression.”
Mikail maintained his composure, but Faith imagined he was wincing on the inside. He strongly believed that faeries and wolves should not interbreed, as that guy she currently strongly disliked called it. But Mikail did not believe they should live in separate kingdoms. How did he justify his beliefs?
Was it because it was the way it has always been? It was a flimsy argument, and yet, if she were honest with herself, it wasn’t an uncommon one. It happened all the time back in her own—er, the human world. If the current policy was working, never mind a theory or even proof that another way may work better. A great many people struggled with the concept of change, period.
Faith was one of them. Otherwise, she would have divorced Luke long ago. Hell, she might not have even married him in the first place. But they’d fallen into a routine, and even though she disliked his family, she had convinced herself that, generally, she was happy. It hadn’t occurred to her that she could be happier without him, because that would have involved a messy breakup and hurt feelings. After they’d moved in together, that revelation would have meant finding a new place to live and dividing the furniture, and…
Change was hard.
“My queen?”
She blinked rapidly. Everyone at the table was looking at her expectantly. What had she missed?
“What is your decision?” one of them asked.
“About what?” she asked dumbly.
The faery who asked the question had the grace to not look exasperated. “What is our next step? What shall you have us do about Zadkiel?”
Oh. Was that why no one would actually come up with a solution to their problems? Because she was supposed to do it? What the hell was the point of this council?
Other than to put her in a bad mood.
She tried not to make it obvious, but yes, she glanced at Mikail. He stared stonily at the far wall, but she did not miss the almost imperceptible shake of his head.
She stood. The rest of the council bounced out of their chairs.
“I need to think on it,” she announced. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mikail nod slightly, and she nearly breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made the right decision. Throwing back her shoulders, she said, “You’ll have my decision soon,” and then she walked as regally as she possibly could toward her Watcher, who did not even hesitate to step out of the hut ahead of her.
Meeting adjourned.
“Can I get rid of them?” she asked as they made their way side by side back to her home. It was nearing dusk. The sun was setting over the sea, sending breathtaking bands of color across the sky. At least the sun was the same in both worlds.
She caught the twitch of his lips.
“You are queen. You can do anything you wish.”
Except sleep with you. Or do anything with you beyond allowing you to protect me.
It was a depressing thought.
“Although I’d advise that you do maintain some sort of council, given your lack of experience in this world. Someone or a few someones who can help guide you when you aren’t sure what’s going on. But no, it does not have to be those particular faeries.”
“Was that my mother’s council?”
“Gayla and Kipp were your mother’s advisers. The rest, no. I do not know if they were appointed while the queen still lived or if this council formed itself since moving to this place.”
She had no idea which ones were Gayla and Kipp. If she had to endure another one of those meetings, she’d insist everyone have nameplates resting on the table in front of them.
“What’s your opinion?” she asked.
“About forming a new council?”
Was he being deliberately obtuse? “About going to war.”
“At least you asked the easy question.”
“What’s that mean?”
“I fully expected you to jump on that separation of the species bit.”
“I already know your opinion on that. Can’t bang ’em but don’t want to live without ’em.”
He chuckled softly. “I’ll admit, if our circumstances were different, it would be much harder to hold to my beliefs, as ingrained as they are.”
She paused on the front stop of her new home and faced him. Canted her head. She was genuinely curious now. “Why? What would need to be different?”
“You would need to not be queen.”
Chapter Twenty
Mikail could see it in her eyes. The damn woman was half ready to abscond her duties.
“Don’t even think it,” he warned.
He wasn’t worth it. Even if Zadkiel was a decent ruler and these fae really had nothing to fear from him taking charge, this was Faith’s birthright. Her destiny.
Mikail was a lowly wolf, not royalty. He had no magic, save the ability to shift forms. He was an employee, plain and simple. Whatever may or may not have started to bloom between them, it was fleeting. And it wasn’t worth giving up her throne.
“It would certainly make my life easier if I weren’t queen,” she argued, although it wasn’t heated. She wasn’t serious, thank the fates. She was, apparently, just in the mood to spar with him.
Fair enough, after all she’d been through in recent days.
“I do not think so,” he replied, grasping the door handle and doing a visual scan, opening his senses, checking for any potential danger that may be lurking. Satisfied that she was safe, he indicated she should step in before him. “We believe Zadkiel knows who you are, remember? You have a target on your back.”
“So do you,” she said, kicking off her shoes and striding toward the kitchen. A servant stepped into view, at the ready to provide whatever she wished. “Go home,” she said wearily, “I can pour myself a glass of wine.” She paused. “There is wine here, right?”
The servant bobbed her head and immediately reached for a decanter and glass.
“Two,” Faith said, flashing two fingers. “And then seriously, go home. I’m fine.”
The poor servant had to practically be shooed from the hut, but she finally retreated, leaving him alone with Faith. He knew it would happen eventually—as her Lead Watcher, it was his responsibility to stay by her side at all times. She likely didn’t realize he’d be sleeping here, too. And if she claimed that room with a door leading out onto the beach, he’d be right there in the damn room with her.
But not in the bed.
She pushed one of the glasses into his chest. “I give you permission to drink on the clock.”
Accepting the wine, he followed her out onto the deck.
“What do you think I should do?” she asked after a long but not uncomfortable silence punctuated by the waves crashing against the beach and the shrieking of a handful of birds that had not yet settled for the night.
He joined her at the railing. The glass dangled from her hand, barely touched. If he whipped up one of his signature mojitos, she’d probably down it. And then she might feel a tad more relaxed, but no doubt she’d also attempt to seduce him, and his track record did not imply that he’d be able to resist.
Or want to.
Smart of her to stick with wine.
“My job is to protect you, not counsel you,” he noted.
She rested her elbow on the balustrade. “Really? My mother never asked for your opinion? In how many years you worked together?”
Too many, for the answer he was about to give. “No.”
Her brows winged up her forehead. “Are you serious? Hell, I barely know Dorin and I asked his advice—on more than my fashion choices.”
He stared out over the dark, unsettled water. “You and your mother are—were—very different people. She did not invite personal relationships.” She was cold, unemotional, had strict, rigid expectations. To be honest, it was a wonder the fae were not relieved that Zadkiel had taken over.
“Let’s talk about my father.”
The topic took him by surprise, although it shouldn’t have. They’d spoken often of her mother, but they’d only discussed her father once, and it hadn’t truly been a discussion.
“I told you I do not know who he is.”
“Yeah, I know. And that makes me curious. You were her Lead Watcher, obligated to be by her side at all times, and you didn’t know who she was sleeping with?” She waved at the hut behind them. “I suspect you have half a mind to share a bedroom with me, even though I know you won’t share my bed. So how did the queen do it?”
