Kira stared at the photographs in her trembling hand, her eyes growing wider with each passing second.
The first one showed her and Lydia sitting across from each other at a small café table, leaning forward like two won sharing the world’s most dangerous secret. And two more from different angles.
The second was even worse. It was Jessica standing right beside Connor’s SUV, helping her wrap a scarf around her hair, sunglasses already perched on her nose.
"Oh, goddess," Kira whispered.
All the strength rushed out of her bones at once, like soone had pulled a plug. Her knees gave way and she crumpled to the carpet in a heap of teal-coloured lace, the heavy coronation gown puffing around her like a cloud.
Who had taken these? When? How? And, most importantly, why send them now, on the morning of her crowning, with the whole of Lycan society gathering downstairs?
There was a note folded inside the envelope. She drew it out with shaking fingers and read it.
A lovely little eting with your stepmother. I wonder what the King would make of it, knowing his queen was sneaking off behind his back, drugging his own security to do it.
et at the dical centre once you’ve beco queen, and before you leave for the Queen’s Conference, if you’d like this to stay between us. Ward 45. I shouldn’t have to spell out what happens if you don’t co.
Her hands shook harder as she read. Tears gathered fast and spilled over before she could stop them.
A hand touched her shoulder.
She jolted violently and spun around. Maya stood behind her, looking down at her with those quiet, knowing eyes. The girl gave her a small smile.
"Everything is going to be fine," Maya said softly.
For a child who supposedly never spoke, Maya had impeccable timing.
Kira stared at her for a mont, then managed a watery smile in return.
Then, she heard the heavy, even footsteps coming down the hall. She knew that tread. Derek was coming for her.
Kira’s whole body went into ergency mode. She scrambled to her feet so quickly that her dress nearly tripped her, wiped her face quickly with the back of her hand and bolted to the bed.
She lifted the corner of the mattress, shoved the photographs, the note, and the envelope underneath, pressing it flat.
She would destroy all of it after the coronation. After. When she could breathe.
She straightened up and pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to stop trying to escape through her ribs.
Her mind, however, was sprinting in a hundred directions.
Who? Who could have done this?
Declan? Possible, in theory. He had never liked her, and he had been watching her all along. But Declan was not the blackmailing sort.
If Declan had stumbled onto these photographs, he would not be sending her cryptic little notes in cream envelopes.
He would be marching straight into Derek’s office with the pictures in one hand and a told-you-so speech rehearsed in the other.
This sneaking, this blackmail, this was not him.
There was only one other person.
Brian.
Of course. Brian was the only one with the motive, the patience, and the cruelty for this.
He was the only one who would use it like this, to pull a leash tight around her throat.
She should have told Derek about Brian’s harassnts. But she hadn’t. She had bitten her tongue and told herself she could handle him.
She had told herself she did not want to be the spark that lit a family war between Derek and his cousin, because Derek already had enough fires to put out.
She had been wrong.
The door swung open.
Kira spun around just as Derek stepped inside.
He was dressed in his full ceremonial attire. Deep black with golden embroidery running across the broad span of his chest, the heavy ceremonial cloak draped from his shoulders.
He looked every inch a king, regal and formidable and impossibly imposing. Her heart pounded even harder and faster.
Derek’s brows drew together.
He stepped into the room, his eyes moving over her.
"You look pale," he said. He ca closer, studying her face, and sothing in his expression sharpened. "Have you been crying?"
Kira shook her head. More tears welled up and betrayed her at once.
"Kira." He crossed to her and stood before her. "What’s wrong?"
She opened her mouth and found nothing in it.
Tell him, a small voice inside her urged. Tell him now. Tell him everything, while you are still standing in this room as his wife.
Another voice, sharper and far less helpful, answered straight back.
And confirm what every single Lycan in that hall has been whispering about you for months? That the werewolf queen has been sneaking off to et werewolves? That the King’s bride cannot be trusted? Today? On coronation day?
Derek took her hand in his. It had gone cold, and he frowned at the feel of it, folding it between both of his own.
"Tell what the problem is," he said quietly. "Is it about last night?"
Kira shook her head.
"Is it the crown?" His voice gentled. "Do you not want this? Are you not ready to be queen?"
He searched her face. "Because if you’re not, you only have to say the word, and I’ll call the whole thing off. I’ll cancel it. We wait until you are ready, however long that takes. Just say it."
The kindness of it undid her further. "No," she said, and her voice cracked. "No, I can’t do that to you. I can’t."
She drew in a shaky breath and decided to be honest.
"Derek, I—"
A knock sounded at the door.
"Oh, for goodness’ sake!" Nana’s voice carried through the door, cheerful and exasperated in equal asure.
"The whole hall is waiting for you two love birds! Hurry up and get yourselves crowned before soone starts a scandal out of boredom."
Derek didn’t look away from Kira. "We’ll be out shortly."
"You’d better!"
The footsteps tapped away again.
He turned back to her, and his eyes flicked briefly past her, to Maya, who had been standing quietly in the corner this whole ti, watching everything with that unnerving stillness of hers. Then his gaze returned to Kira’s face.
"You were saying?"
Kira looked up at him, and felt her courage shrink down to the size of a pea.
She could not do it. Not now, not with the kingdom waiting and his crown minutes from his head.
She shook her head.
"I’m just nervous," she said, forcing the smallest smile. "That’s all. I’ve never been a queen before. It’s a lot."
She would tell him after. She promised herself that, fiercely, silently, as he looked down at her.
After the coronation. She would tell him everything.
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