Our Fatal Failings (Twisted book two)

Chapter 10

"I don't know how to be a queen of wolves or a queen of anyone."

"You'll learn as you go. I'm hosting a ball celebrating our mating in a week."

"Must you?"

"It's a good morale boost--the country needs it."

I lean back into the bed and look up at the ceiling. "Let me talk to my parents--I know you have them."

"You can't."

"Are you going to take that away from me to? Like you took away everything else I had?"

"The last time you met with your parents, they passed you information that helped you run away."

"They helped me run away because you kidnapped me!"

He turns around and looks at me, with an expression on his face that can't be anything but weariness. I shrink back. I feel like a petulant child mid-tantrum. "I don't know what to do. Every time we talk about this, it leads back to this. You're not human. You never were, you never will be. You're a werewolf, please act like it."

I close my eyes. The thought of a crown on my head makes my neck ache, imagining the heaviness. Pretend jewels clasped tight around my neck suffocate me, subjects bowing swallow me up with their demands.

The best case scenario is that I lose myself so much I don't even mind. The worst case is that I lose myself so much I am miserable for the rest of my left.

But in every scenario, I will lose myself. I cannot be who I am, or who I was, with a crown on my head or this king on my arm.

I open my eyes. "No."

He rubs his temples. "It's never easy with you. It's always a fight."

"It's better you kill me for a new mate then." The words rush out of mouth before I can stop them. Do I think he's a monster?

He blinks, with a blank look in his eye, before his face colors a hot red. "No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that-"

"Do you think I'm a murderer? Much less one to kill their own mate? I'd take my own life before I did that."

"I'm sorry-"

"That's some fucked up stuff right there." A muscle works in his jaw. The space between us been tenser. And I know I'm not in any danger but hairs stand on the back of my neck.

I turn away. "Is there any other reason you came here."

"I thought we could talk things out, maybe come to an agreement about how this was going to work."

"Maybe," I mumble. I want to open my eyes and wake up in my dingy apartment.

"You're to go to classes on the history of were-kind, once a week, in the afternoons. On other days I've hired a tutor who you train you in the art of speaking and politics."

"I have no interest in politics."

"You're my queen. People will try to get to me through you and you need to be able to resist their manipulation."

And he's not worried I'll get good enough to manipulate him again. Discontentment hums through my body, telling me the look on his face before I can look up. I forgot how irritating the emotional tether was.

"I know what you're thinking. Don't try it."

My mouth goes dry. "You got smart."

"I have you to thank."

The room fills with silence again for an awkward minute before he speaks again. "I hope you're okay with the look of the room. If you're not, we can change it."