Sam clears his throat. “He won’t be able to complete the mating process.”
My mother’s eyes glaze over, and she slumps back in her chair at the news, like it has hit her full force. “What do you mean?”
“He can’t bite her. It’ll kill her. The best we can do is a spiritual bond ceremony where he would be recognized by ancestors of power,” Sam answers.
My mother shuts the file. “This is a big decision. I will need some time to discuss this with my son. We will need to reconvene at a later time.”
A council member pipes up.
“I’m sorry, but the Zagaia Coven is eager for a response. I’m afraid if we don’t provide them with an answer soon—”
“If it is my son she wants, she will gladly wait.”
“We don’t know this for certain. Your pack does not have the leverage it used to in making negotiations. A lot of the marital options presented to your son arrived under the impression that your resources were bountiful and civilization and agriculture thriving. After having them all here, I’m sure they are starting to put the pieces together that this is not the case. It’s only a matter of time before you lose all interest—”
“Then, Goddess help us all that his fated mate appears.”
“We can’t bank on that, Mom,” I say.
“I’m not ready to make a decision. I haven’t even met this woman,” my mother scoffs.
I clench my teeth at the implication that my mate is her decision. She hasn’t been around for my present and my recent past, and now she wants to decide my future? It’s infuriating.
“The best we can do right now is give her coven a deadline, a date by which to expect our decision. When do you need one?”
My mother’s eyes bore into me. And if it wasn’t a bad look for us, she’d smack me in the back of the head.
Taya chimes in. “We can give you until the next full moon.”
I silently thank her.
The councilman shakes his head, displeased. He then laughs off Taya’s statement like a child who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. The tension between the council and the crown deteriorates with every meeting. There’s a struggle for power. And I’m wondering just how long until the council realizes they are not going to win.
“Forgive Taya, she’s new at this.”
“Excuse me?” Taya, clearly offended by their audacity, furrows her brows.
Sam, immediately sensing her displeasure, scoots out of his chair, ready to come to her defense. But Taya always had a knack for dealing with egotistical men—my beta being one of them once upon a time. I’ll never forget how she embarrassed Tyler for the rumors he spread about her.
Taya places her arm on Sam.
He stops and sits back down, registering that she wants to handle the matter.
“I think you’re out of line, council. I also do not appreciate you interpreting my decision—one that I have complete authority to make under the crown—as a mere suggestion. I don’t need you asking for forgiveness on my behalf. I don’t need it. But I will give you the chance to ask it of me.”
“The Hunt is quickly approaching, and it is tradition that the alpha and luna lead the unmated prospects to Crescent. At this rate, there will not be time for a mating ceremony. Not to mention the witches are not going to be happy about this.”
“You mean to sayyouaren’t happy about this. I haven’t been given any impression that the witches were on any sort of timeline...” Taya looks at Sam. “Have you?”
Sam glares at the councilman, and his teeth grind even more visibly than before. Pissed, he grits, “No... I haven’t.”
Uh oh.
Sam stands and adjusts his shirt. Although, everything about his attire is in order. I conclude he’s keeping his hands busy to stop himself from punching the man for having information the crown doesn’t have.
“Tell me, council. Have you been meeting with the Coventry to discuss matters without the crown’s knowledge?”
The councilman blurts, “I—er... no. Of course not. I just mean—”
