"The same crown you have rejected and abandoned," she said, in the tone she had been using on me since I was four years old. "You do not choose whenever it suits you to remember you are the prince and merely owning that title doesn't mean you deserve it. You have done nothing for your race, other than bury your tool in everything with a skirt and waste away in goblets of wine. I will have no more of your insolence."
Ignoring the anger swelling in my chest, I gave her an amused smile. "And here I thought burying 'my tool' in whatever woman you chose was my most important duty as a prince."
Her lips pulled thin, and the temperature in the room plummeted. "The Red Moon is in eight weeks."
Of course. It always came down to this.
"I'm aware of when the Red Moon is."
"Then you are aware that the priestess has confirmed the alignment. The conditions are--"
"Optimal," I cut in. "Yes. They're always optimal, right up until they aren't, and then there's another red moon and another alignment and another set of optimal conditions and we do it all again. How many optimal conditions does it take, Aunt? Before we admit that the problem isn't the timing? And Tessa? Has anyone ever thought to ask her what she wants?"
My aunt's expression didn't change. "Tessa knows her duty."
"Tessa knows she has no choice," I said. "There is a difference. A significant one, considering our existence has always been built around the wellbeing of our females. Their pleasure. Their choices." My nostrils flared. "And then we arrange one of them into a Convergence with four men she didn't choose, scheduled for a mating rite she cannot opt out of, and we tell her it's her duty." I looked at my aunt directly. "Which is it?"
The Lycan Queen studied me coldly. "Tessa is not a child. There's not a woman, Lycan, werewolf and human, who would not kill to be your Queen." She took a step forward, until her scent and aura enveloped me. "There are nineteen of us purebreds left, Soren.
"Nineteen. In the whole world. When I was a girl, my mother told me there were forty. When her mother was a girl, there were hundreds." Her jaw clenched. "The lowest birthrates have occurred during my reign, a failure that will be recorded in our fading history. And then I look at you, the best of us, waste what you have been given."
"I am not wasting–"
"Six years of the sacred rituals," she cut in sharply. "And yet, nothing. You and your brothers, the strongest bond I have seen in my lifetime, and nothing." She turned to look at me. "Do you know what the Council says about that? They say it is your resistance. That the Goddess will not bless what you refuse to commit to. That until you take Tessa as your Erasthai in full–mind, body, and bond–the fertility rites will continue to fail."
I froze.
Erasthai.
The word tore through me with such force, I flinched. The words left my lips faster than I could think. "I will not be your breeding stud. If you are so eager for a union, have one of your males wed Tessa–"
The blow snapped my head to the side, leaving the taste of blood in my mouth.
I touched the cut on my lip with two fingers and looked at my aunt.
She was breathing slightly harder than usual, which for the Queen was the equivalent of anyone else throwing furniture. Her chin was up. Her eyes dark.
"I have been patient," she seethed. "For years, Soren. I have covered for you, managed the Grahams and held the Council off on their decision of a permanent exile for best suited for an irresponsible prince. I told them you were committed, that you simply needed time.
"I raised you to be better than this. I raised you to understand that there are things larger than what we want. What do you think happens to us when the wolves realize the power we wield is not as absolute as they think it is? What happens when they realize we have nothing under control? What happens when they start snatching up our females and males to try to breed from us? Or when they rally and kill us for being stronger? When they wrestle the crown from us and sink the world with their greed?"
My chest heaved twice. The mad thing in my chest rattled with anger. To snap her fucking her neck and rip out her tongue.
She must've felt the violence rising to the surface because she stepped back. "This marriage secures our future. Tessa's bloodline is powerful enough to keep her alive through the mating ritual of four. She will bear the first pups we've seen in decades and they will be a beacon of hope for our people. This is your duty, and you will run from it no longer. You have until the red moon. You have right weeks, Soren, to get yourself and your brothers to that altar." Her eyes grew menacing. "Or I'll have that wretched wolf you've been looking after maimed and killed."
I stiffened, schooled my expression into something blank and empty. "What wolf?"
Her smile was cruel. "Oh, Soren. Mercer is my son. You really think there's anything he could keep from me?"
Claws bit into my palms and my jaw clenched tightly. If she knew the full extent of what we'd done to Maisie Adams, I doubted the Omega would still be alive. Still…
Fuck Mercer.
She tossed a photo at my feet, alongside an envelope. The photo was of Maisie Adams, and my aunt crooned, "Thread carefully, nephew. I may be merciful, but even that has limits. Do your part, and I may let you keep her. As your plaything."
Motioning towards the envelope, she added, "Alpha Dante has invited me to the engagement of his son to the Braxton girl this weekend. You will attend in my stead and extend my greetings, as well as my blessings."