Elizabeth sighs, rubbing a hand over her face. “I should’ve known she’d pull this shit again.”
“She hasn’t yet,” I lie.
Elizabeth raises a brow. “She will.” Lizzie shifts leaning closer to her phone. “Look, Sythe. I know what she’s like. I lived through it. You know she didn’t want us to pick Bree. You know she wanted me to find a nice male omega for the pack-”
“Lord Jacobson.”
Liz keeps going like I hadn’t just mentioned the bane of her existence. “She tried everything in her power to keep us apart. Which is why I bonded Bree without Gram’s consent. It was too late at that point. And now the public adores my omega, and she can’t say shit about it. You can do the same.”
Only, I can’t. The queen has made it clear what will happen if I choose anyone but Isadora.
Excommunicated from my family.
Exile from Bravonne.
Cut off from everything I know.
My entire life.
And yet, I’m considering it. Considering choosing love over duty, Florence over Isadora, happiness over a lifetime of misery.
Right on cue, as though she can sense the direction of my thoughts, there’s a sharp knock at Lizzie’s door. Three precise raps that, even through the screen, make the hair on my arms and the back of my neck prickle.
Elizabeth stills. “That’s her.”
“Yes.”
“She’ll want to talk to you.”
“Undoubtedly.”
Elizabeth’s expression hardens, all warmth draining away and leaving behind the future queen of Bravonne. “Listen to me,” she says quickly. “Whatever she asks, whatever she threatens, remember she only has power if you let her use it.”
“You say that as though she doesn’t control every aspect of our lives.”
“She controls parts,” Elizabeth corrects, not ungently. “Not love. Not truth. Not the choices we make. Not the family we choose.”
Another knock. Louder this time.
Elizabeth exhales. “Call me back after. And Sythe?”
“Yes?”
Her gaze softens again. “Be careful with Ren’s heart. I know it would kill you if you did any real damage to it.”
She stands up taking me with her and I hear the door open. Lizzie hands her phone over with no argument or question, I get a flash of Bree’s pale face, no longer dimpled with a smile.
So that’s what happened. The omega ran into the queen in the halls of Blackmere and was strong armed into revealing that Lizzie and I were talking.
Never one to miss an opportunity to strong arm me, she rushed right here. Likely because I’ve been dodging her calls for the last few days.
“Forsythe,” she says coolly, holding Lizzie’s phone up so I can be sure to see her severe expression. “We need to speak.”
“Of course,” I say, pure fake politeness.
She stumps into Lizzie’s sitting room without waiting for permission, her cane thumping with each step, and sinks onto the couch Lizzie and Bree had been on. I know without asking that my sister and her omega have vacated the room entirely, probably to go find the rest of their pack.
“I will be brief,” my grandmother continues. “Florence Karlin cannot remain on the show past the scenting ceremony.”
