Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,29
restrictions and the laws of the Tribunal, I liked to hold on to the illusion of my freedom whenever I could.
Tonight, that illusion had almost cost some innocent people their lives.
Not to mention costing Lucas over a hundred grand in dress damages.
“Not anymore,” I said. “I know I’m a pain in the ass about these things, but I’m also not an idiot. Someone wants me dead, and they obviously mean business about it. Until we can find them, I’m not putting anyone else at risk because of me.”
“You won’t have to,” Lucas said.
“What do you mean?”
“I received a call a few hours ago. From Callum.”
Callum McQueen, Werewolf King of the South and my uncle. “What did he want?”
“To send his congratulations.” Lucas was leaving something out, I could tell from the hesitation in his voice.
“And?”
Desmond and Lucas exchanged uneasy glances, as if I wouldn’t notice when I was standing between them. “Sit down for a second,” Lucas suggested. In honor of the agreement I’d made to be less resistant, I sat, but I was still waiting for my men to give me a better explanation.
“It’s been a long time since there was a royal marriage,” Desmond began.
“Decades,” Lucas agreed, nodding with what Desmond was saying.
“Whoop-dee-do,” I said. “Is he hoping for an invite?”
The wolves looked nervous, and Lucas said, “In a manner of speaking.”
“Guys…not to be impatient or anything, but I am sitting here in a twelve-thousand-dollar dress that is itchier than being wrapped in sandpaper, someone just tried to kill me, and I don’t have a lot of steam left to follow the bouncing ball of this ridiculous buildup. Pull off the Band-Aid. Please.”
Lucas sat in front of me on the big leather ottoman and took my hand in his. “Callum is claiming you, as a princess of the Southern pack line, are his wolf. He is insisting if I, as King, want to marry you, I need to go to Louisiana and make an official request of your hand from him in person. I must make an appeal for you in front of him and the lead members of his pack.”
“You what? Like hell you do.”
“He’s using a very old pack law. It is usually overlooked, but he’s making a point of requiring it, and according to the laws of our people, I must respect his wishes and comply with the request.”
“This is bullshit.”
“It’s…inconvenient, sure. But we have no choice in the matter. Protocol dictates—”
“Lucas, open your eyes.”
He frowned and released my hands then stood abruptly. “We have no choice. Either we go to Louisiana, or I start a war. And I will not start a war.”
“It’s a trap. Don’t you get that?”
“Secret, you don’t understand.” He sounded tired and irritated. I had that effect on him.
“Then help me understand.”
“I have considered Callum is baiting me. I know it’s the most logical reason for him to use such an outdated excuse to lure us south. In spite of your opinion of my leadership skills, I’m not a fool.”
“I never—”
He cut me off with the wave of a hand. “He can’t openly attack me, and he certainly won’t do it in his kingdom. What he’s hoping is that we will slip up when we get there. He’s counting on us to be the ones to make the mistake.”
I sat back, the lace of the gown making my underarms itch. “You mean he’s counting on me to be the one to make a mistake.”
Again he and Desmond exchanged loaded glances before Lucas said, “Most likely, yes.”
“And you can’t go without me because he’s using our marriage as the bait.”
“Right.”
“So what you’re saying is, we’re going to Louisiana to meet the man who has made your life a living hell for months, the man who drove his own mother to flee the country for fear over my safety, and you want me to smile and nod and curtsy. Be the pretty little princess everyone expects me to be.”
He paused. “I don’t think anyone expects you to curtsy.”
I called Nolan from Desmond’s car. Due to the threat against me I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unattended, and Desmond was being especially vigilant in that. No one, me more than anyone, blamed him for my recent brushes with death, but it was apparent he blamed himself.
Morgan, as per instruction from Lucas, had purchased me new clothes, but she had enjoyed the task a bit too much. The jeans she’d selected were so long I had to cuff them twice, and the powder-pink hoodie