“Alderic has been pushing hard for this union,” she mused, switching topics with the fluid grace of a born manipulator. “First the marriage proposals every council meeting, now this convenient pregnancy. He’s never been this aggressive before.”
“You think they’re working together,” I said, the pieces falling into place.
My parents exchanged one of those looks that contained entire conversations. Fifty years of marriage had given them their own language.
“Alderic has always been ambitious,” my father said carefully. “But this seems... desperate.”
“The question is why,” my mother added. “What drives a man to push his daughter into a false pregnancy claim? What makes him risk everything on such a dangerous gambit?”
Thea, who’d been watching the conversation with wide eyes, suddenly tugged on my mother’s expensive skirt. Everyone froze. You didn’t touch Serena Raven without permission. People had lost hands for less.
“Are you Knox’s mama?” Thea asked, completely oblivious to the danger.
My mother looked down at the tiny girl with the expression of someone encountering an alien species. “I am.”
“You’re pretty,” Thea declared with the confidence only a four-year-old could manage. “Rowan, look! Daddy has a mama too!”
“Everyone has a mother,” Rowan said solemnly, but he was studying my parents with those too-smart eyes. “That’s how biology works.”
My father made a sound that might have been amusement. “Intelligent. Intelligence is crucial for survival.”
“Though sometimes inconvenient,” my mother murmured, still staring at Thea, who was now playing with the hem of her dress. “Pretty fabric,” Thea announced. “Soft.”
“It’s Italian silk,” my mother informed her. “Worth more than most cars.”
“Cool!” Thea beamed up at her. “Can I have a dress made of cars?”
I held my breath, waiting for my mother to verbally eviscerate my daughter for her nonsense. Instead, Serena’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.
“That would be impractical. Cars are made of metal. Metal is not comfortable against skin.”
“Oh.” Thea considered this. “Can I have a dress like yours then?”
“Perhaps. If you prove yourself worthy.”
My father, apparently done with fashion discussions, moved toward the twins with the fluid grace of a predator. When he reached for Thea, presumably to examine her more closely, Rowan reacted.
“Don’t grab her,” the boy said firmly, and tiny claws extended from his fingertips, catching my father’s hand in warning scratches.
Everyone held their breath. Marcus Raven looked down at the thin lines of blood on his hand, then at the small boy who’d dared to harm him. The silence stretched taut.
Then my father smiled. Not his political smile or his threatening smile, but a genuine expression of approval.
“Strong. Protective instincts.” He examined the scratches with interest. “Clean cuts. Excellent control for one so young. Perhaps we’ve underestimated the advantages of hybrid vigor.”
“These children,” my mother said thoughtfully, her academic tone emerging, “they shifted young?”
“Partial shifts only,” I confirmed. “But yes. Exceptionally young. Before their third birthday.”
“Fascinating.” She circled the twins slowly, examining them from every angle. “Human genetics strengthening rather than diluting. The scientific community will want to study-”
“No.” Lina’s voice cut through the room with surprising force. “No studying. They’re children, not experiments.”
I braced for my mother’s wrath. Nobody interrupted Serena Raven. Nobody told her no. I’d seen her destroy careers for less disrespect.
But my mother merely tilted her head, reassessing. “They’ll need that protective instinct. The world is not kind to those who are different.”
“They’re perfect exactly as they are,” Lina said, pulling both twins against her protectively.
