Our Fatal Failings (Twisted book two)

Chapter Thirty-One

His eyes darken with something that made me gulp. He seizes me upon reaching the bedside. "We have different definitions of cuddling, then?"

His laugh is hearty. "I changed my mind."

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"Jasmine, if you don't sit down right now..." I sigh. "Andreas, go get your sister, please." He looks up from a cut of rare steak, confused. "I said go get your sister. Get your brother too. They'll be less antsy after food." With a few grumbled words which we'll have to talk about later, he stands and grabs Jasmine's and Nia's hands. I spin around. "Where's Iris?"

"Napping," a voice says behind me and arms twine around my hips. "She's too young to be here anyway."

"Marcus?"

"Reading. He takes after your nerdish, bookish ways." I glare at Jonah over my shoulder. His stubble is scraping my cheek and while it's a nice look, it's adding to my irritation.

"This is the last one," I say, rubbing my temples. "When did you talk me into having all these kids?"

"It's just five."

"With a sixth one on the way," I murmur. I love all my children equally. But I do long for the days where I could sleep--or do other bedtime activities--without hiding from my pups. "It's the last one. The last one."

"You were the one who decided to have the sixth one."

"With your enthusiastic support. But you'll talk me out of seven." His eyes dart to the side and I pull his tie. "You'll talk me out of seven, you hear that?" Instead of answering, he flashes forward and connects our mouths. His hands dig into my shoulders, leaving me breathless. I pull away. "Nevermind," I rasp. "You can't be trusted. I'll have to set an alarm on my phone every day. Say no to seven."

"Or it's a sign. Say yes to eight."

We're assuming seven is confirmed and jumping straight to eight? No. Not on all that is holy, no. I shake my head, my eyes darting toward the refreshments table. Didn't I send Andreas to watch his siblings? He's twelve, which means plenty mature enough to bring back one runaway girl. "They're all here."

Lara walks over with Andreas trailing behind, huffing something about "I could've done it," and Jasmine and Nia holding each of her hands. I bend.

"Lara, thank you." I frown at the jam around Jasmine's mouth and fight to ignore it. This is too important a day to let jam--or blood?--ruin. But my mind spins theories. How did she get blood smeared across her mouth? Why do all my children take more after their father than me?

Lara's bright blue dress matches her bright blue eyes. "I'm sorry I missed your art exhibition. I'll be at the first one right after the baby arrives." I lean in to receive her hug. "Jonah still gets antsy during my pregnancies." More like possessive. It was a habit that had to be talked about several times. I'm not that type of Luna.

"I'll talk to him," she says, knowing her art will give rise to hard and necessary conversations about the war. The mess we caused and the change it brought. She depicts it all in a series of black shaded murals, a homage to her twenties early years. She turns off, walking in stride with the Alpha from Northern California she decided to begin talking to a couple of years ago. Change is slow, but change is sure. Healing is sure, too.

"Here, eat this." A strip of bloody meat is shoved near my mouth and I reel. Jonah stands before me with cautious, troubled eyes. "You haven't eaten in three hours."

"I ate a big breakfast."

"But the baby will-"

"The baby will-" There's a sharp kick to the stomach. His hands come around my bump as if that's going to do anything. "I'm not made of glass, we've been through this too many times, Jonah." I breathe in deep. I don't want to be angry today. But this will be addressed. "I'm not hungry. It's the pregnancy, I guess. I feel stuffed all the time. Another reason to say no to seven." I check the clock. "Come on, King, it's time for you to sign my bill into law."

He settles his nose in my neck and sighs. "I could have signed it anytime you wanted."

"But that wouldn't be fair. And if one person isn't fair, then the whole system becomes corrupt. It was better it went through the council for a vote." Not that they would've vetoed it. The council chambered is closed to us ministers, but not to the King. I heard his eyes were yellow and his fangs bared the whole time. "And next time, smile during the vote."

"I did.

"Without your wolf teeth." I lead him to the desk and the cameras position themselves before us. He'll give a perfunctory little speech and then sign the bill with his golden pen. I'll sign my name as the minister under and we'll be free to cut the cake. Or in my case, slip away for a nap because of my swollen feet.

He clears his voice. "I won't speak long, I know my words aren't what anyone who anticipated this bill is waiting for. But today"--he reaches back and grabs my hand, lifting it up into the air--"we truly mark the beginning of a new era. We try to soothe the scars of war and ensure equal protection under the law for all our populace, be they magical or not. This is the future. And it's all the work of my Luna. My only job is to pick up the pen."

There's a small laugh through the room as he pulls out the chair. Cameras click and flash. Almost there. "Sign before me," he says. It's like the air has been sucked out of the room. I try and hide the widening of my eyes, but I know they'll catch it on tape. Jonah's hand finds the small of my back. "A sovereign is a sovereign. Sign it before me."

I pick up the pen, my mouth filling with spit. I've never signed a bill before. Nor have I ever been asked to. The council doesn't look at me with the same respect as they look at Jonah with. The council barely looks at me at all, though I'm their Luna. I quickly learned a Luna was supposed to be the heart of the pack, never the mind.

I put the pen to paper and with a slow hand, print my signature large and clear. Jonah nods, picks it up after me, and signs below the official line. It's my signature that's prominent. Mine that's first. Mine that's official. Cameras click again to a round of clapping and I stand to shake hands with the onlookers.

"Thank you," I whisper as Jonah walks by.

"You shouldn't." I watch his back as he makes his rounds around the room, speaking to important ministers and friends. Isn't it strange that after five children, there are still new angles to this person? Will it always be like this?

There's a tap on my shoulder. Andreas stares up at me, holding Nia's grubby and possibly bloodstained hand in his. It makes a nerve in my head twitch. No one seems bothered that the children in the room are running around eating like they were wild bears. Why isn't anyone bothered?

I bend to be eye level with him. "Yes?"

"There's a woman who wants to see you here." My smile drops as I lift my head. He's right. She stands in the doorway. Unnoticed. Unwelcome. "She says she's your Mom."