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Given that he was my host, single, and I was officially out for mating, I couldn’t refuse. ‘Of course.’ I willed a smile to my lips.
He took my gloved hand and led me onto the floor. He bowed to me and I inclined my head in acknowledgement; if I was going to be Queen, I wasn’t curtsying to anyone.
He led me around the room in a slow waltz, our bodies so close together that I was grateful for the fullness of my ballgown skirt. Even so, I could feel his hands on my back – and I could imagine Greg having an apoplectic fit.
‘Are you excited about the challenge that awaits you?’ Elliott asked.
‘Of course,’ I lied smoothly. ‘I always enjoy a challenge.’
‘As do I.’ He smiled and smouldered a little. I got the distinct impression that the challenge he wanted to enjoy was me. I started to talk about the weather. The refuge of every British person.
When the dance was over, Archie was there to whisk me off for the next one, a quickstep that was actually quite fun. He led me competently and my rusty childhood dance classes got a little dusting off. I loved his company; as always, he managed to make me laugh a couple of times.
Isaacs was heading purposefully towards me and I did not want to dance with him. I looked around desperately and instantly found Greg by my side. He bowed low and, taking my gloved hand, hastily claimed my final dance.
Never in a million years would I have expected my serious-faced beta to swirl me around the dance floor with such dexterity; it had never occurred to me that my soldier could move. We’d been to clubs together but he’d always sat and nursed a beer whilst I danced, yet here he was moving effortlessly around the dance floor. I was quite breathless as the sparks flew between us – if we’d been alone, I’d have been ripping off his tuxedo.
But we weren’t alone, far from it: we were in a crowded ballroom and all eyes were on me. As the dance ended and Greg bowed to me, it took everything in me not to kiss him. If I didn’t come back from my meeting with the seat of power, these would be our last precious moments together.
When we moved off the dance floor, Liam and Archie came to flank us. Silent support: it mattered more than it should have. I couldn’t help hearing the whispers, see the money changing hands and I knew that they were not betting on if I would die but when. If I survived the seat of power I would be crowned, and I had no doubt that I would be attacked the moment the crown touched my head.
I would need to respond to those attackers fiercely and without hesitation. I would use everything at my disposal to intimidate those gathered here today to ensure that they hesitated to attack me again. Apparently the Great Pack’s seal of approval wasn’t enough for some of the more power-hungry attendants, but I would teach them otherwise.
It was going to be a wild few hours and some of the people who had walked into this hall weren’t going to walk back out again. As Esme had crooned, it was going to be a massacre. I felt less delighted at the prospect than she did but, like her, I wanted to live and I’d do just about anything to be the last woman standing.
It felt slightly insane to be plotting the deaths of my enemies but I had so many at my door. The strong survived in the Other realm and I needed to ensure that everyone knew that I was the strongest one here. Because I was – they just didn’t know it.
With my three dances under my belt, a man approached to whom I actually wanted to speak. Jimmy Rain sauntered towards me with an obnoxious swagger, a woman on his arm. Next to me, Archie made a choking noise and I sent him a sharp glance.
‘My mother,’ he whispered hastily. His mother who had divorced Wilfred Samuel when Archie was thirteen and had never looked back. To my knowledge, she hadn’t spoken to her son since she’d moved to France.
That was all the conversation Archie and I had time for before Rain joined us. ‘Lucy,’ he greeted me. ‘Isn’t this fun?’
‘My Queen,’ I corrected icily. ‘You can address me properly or not at all.’
He smiled but his eyes were dark. ‘You should be thanking me, Lucy. Without me, you’d still be a little nobody werewolf.’
‘You’re right,’ I said airily. ‘And does the former Lady Samuel know that you were the one that poisoned her ex-husband?’
The blonde woman was tall and buxom with an hourglass figure and breasts spilling out of her ridiculously low-cut dress. Evidently she wasn’t a fan of the less-is-more ideology. She didn’t have a wrinkle on her face; instead she had the telltale stiffness that signalled Botox. Her lips were filled a shade too plump; like mine, they were painted red but I wore the colour better.
She pouted sulkily. She’d have been glaring if her forehead would have allowed her. ‘You are the one who killed my husband,’ she spat in a French accent.
‘Your ex-husband,’ I corrected mildly. ‘I did kill him, yes – but only after the man you’re clinging to poisoned him.’
‘’E did no such ting,’ she protested, her French accent thickening.
I raised an eyebrow – partly because, unlike her, I could. ‘And if he didn’t, then why did he insist I should thank him?’ She blinked, nonplussed.
I turned back to Rain and chuckled. ‘Did you fly her all the way here just for that little confrontation? Disappointing, was it not?’ His jaw clenched.
‘Wilfred and Jimmy fought over me for years,’ she spat. ‘You would not understand the depth of their feelings for me.’
‘Evidently not,’ I said drolly. ‘But I wonder about the depth of your feelings for them, given that you divorced Lord Samuel but failed to marry Rain.’
‘’E has a wife,’ she spat.
‘Ah, you’re the mistress, are you? Bit of a step down from being a lord’s wife, isn’t it?’
