The Cabinet members looked normal for immortals, but I knew they were all among the most powerful people in the city. Between the shadows that curled off some of them like smoke and the magic that made the air buzz around others, the people in those chairs weren’t the kind I should risk pissing off.
It was strange to think that the man behind me, the one who was forcing me to be his mate, was more powerful than any of them. Except maybe Liv.
I wasn’t sure how the royals’ magic ranked against each other, or if they could compete at all given how different their power was.
There was a larger chair off to the side of the group, with its own canopy stretched over it, and my gaze collided with my sister's.
She looked exactly the same.
Gwen's curls were looser than mine, falling around her face perfectly. I knew she would've fixed them with an iron, the way she always had. I'd never bothered, hence my daily messy bun that never looked perfect.
Our hair was the same shade of buttery blonde, but she had more freckles than I did, and hers were darker. More striking.
Our noses were the same shape, our eyes were the same color, and our faces were incredibly similar.
Although we looked like twins, we were around ten months apart in age. Our parents wouldn’t admit it, but we were pretty sure the age gap was from a birth control error during our mom’s first heat after she had Gwen. Having children was dangerous for immortal women, so no immortals evertriedto have their kids so close together.
Not if they were sane, anyway.
The cost of the kind of magic required to even attempt to make sure everyone survived childbirth was astronomical.
Our parents were still paying off the bill from the unicorn midwife who had kept us all alive when my café became overwhelmingly successful. I’d contacted the unicorn and paid her myself, so they wouldn’t have to worry about it. I asked the midwife to just say she’d forgiven them after so many years, because I wasn’t trying to buy their love back.
As soon as we made eye contact, Gwen looked away.
I forced myself not to stare, despite the mess of emotion in my chest.
Sable was asleep, which was normal. But for once, I wanted her to distract me.
Glancing down the row of Cabinet members, I realized the conundrum we were about to be in.
Callum was still leading me in front of him, down the path and toward the chairs, but there would be nowhere for me to sit.
The crowd was loud, and I didn't want anyone near us to hear me ask him what he planned to do about the seating situation. Someone who loved their partner like I was supposed to love Callum would trust them to figure something out. So, I stayed quiet.
In one way or another, I was about to be really embarrassed, or really uncomfortable.
Maybe both.
Hell,probablyboth.
Unsurprisingly, Callum didn't greet a single person as we reached the empty chairs. There was no moment of hesitation on his side when we did.
He sat down.
Then pulled me onto his lap, so I was sitting on his thigh.
If werewolves were the type to be scandalized—which we absolutely weren't—it would've been quite the scandal.
As it was, I could feel many sets of eyes on me.
I leaned against his chest, and he pulled me closer. It wasn't incredibly comfortable, as far as seats went, but it would do.
Liv's foot was tapping, her hands in the pockets of her jeans to hide what I was now confident were fidget toys. She looked extremely uncomfortable.
My attention turned to the gathered crowd, as I tried to find Jonah.
"He's over there." Liv nodded to the edge of the group directly to our left. Jonah stood in a cluster of men that I recognized as his MMA fighter friends. They'd all stopped in the cafe from time to time to chat with him when he was with me, and pretty much all of them had either flirted with me or asked me out.
