Chapter 146: 146. Family Breakfast II
Maisie
Breakfast was in an open-aired pavilion.
The table was long enough to fit four families of pure breds and hybrids.
I was wedged on the left side between Jericho and Quinlan.
Quinlan looked annoyingly good for a man who had been whipped less than a day ago. His embroidered jacket hid most of the damage, but the bandage peeking from his half-open shirt was impossible to miss.
Jericho, meanwhile, was still refusing to speak to me.
Which would have been easier to bear if he wasn’t simultaneously taking all the bones out of my fish, cutting my steak into smaller pieces, and quietly replacing my glass of water every time it got low.
"Jer, about last night—"
He let out an irritated grunt and turned his gaze elsewhere, dismissing me.
I exhaled through my nose. Fine. I deserved that.
Soren and Mercer sat closer to the head of the table. And between them was the source of my rapidly deteriorating mood.
Tessa.
She looked positively radiant in her sapphire blue. The gown was cut scandalously low, the neckline dipping just enough that every time she leaned toward Soren, her pale cleavage glistened.
She kept giggling like she’d won a lottery or something.
I did not miss the Queen’s approving smile each time she did it. Lady Graham, seated on the Queen’s right, made a soft, loud little sound of encouragement. "It really is such a shame they can’t be bonded. They have such beautiful chemistry."
Her gaze flicked to me. "Instead, we get that."
A few women down the table tittered into their cups.
Don’t react, I told myself as my fingers tightened around the glass cup. Don’t give them the satisfaction.
I’d been around bullies before. This was no different.
I repeated the mantra so many times, I didn’t hear the question until the table had fallen silent.
I glanced up and the Queen’s mate, the one who always liked to stare at parts of me oddly, and had blue-black hair that reminded me of Bastian, ran his fingers down her arms, massaging gently. "You worry too much, my Queen," he murmured. "The girl has only been bonded a short while."
The Queen hummed. "I had expected better progress," the Queen said. "We should be able to sniff a pup on her by now." She turned to Mercer. "Am I to believe you four incapable of impregnating her or might your new bride be barren?"
My food turned to lead in my stomach.
"Mother," Mercer hissed, fingers tightening around his fork. "If you’re looking for a fertility report, I’m sure Memah can ease your worries, considering you had her torment our mate in the guise of a useless examination."
The table fell silent, staring at Mercer with shock. I knew then that it was possibly the first time he’d ever spoken to her that way.
Her brow arched as another of her mates combed his fingers through her hair. "You would address me this way because of that little girl?"
"There are more pressing matters at hand than heirs, Your Majesty," Soren said, a snap lingering in his voice. "Like the deaths happening on our borders, coming so close to home."
The Queen’s eyes crinkled. "If there are more deaths, there should be more births, don’t you think? Or do you need some help getting your wife on her back, Soren? You never had that problem with all the women you gifted your seed in the past. I’m sure MacKeltar over there can help with that."
The man in question had red hair, the very fair kind, and he had been staring at me all breakfast like I was something he wanted to break open and devour.
Even if the hybrid woman I assumed to be his mate or wife was seated beside him. She had no mark on her—none that I could see—but she had a simple wedding band on her finger.
Wife, then.
She was pregnant, and there were other younger children with the same ginger hair, running under the table.
He caught me staring and tipped his chin, running an eye along my face and the length of my neck. He licked his lips. "I wouldn’t mind."
My skin crawled.
"Take your eyes off her, Christian, or I’ll carve them out and add them to the main course," Jericho said casually, flipping a butter knife around his finger methodically.
A challenge rose on Christian’s face, but before the tension could explode, the Queen added, "Then again, perhaps the girl simply lacks enthusiasm for her duties. I heard some silly talk of a divorce."
Gasps rippled across the table like the concept was completely foreign.
"False news," Quinlan countered, and he reached across, entwining his fingers through mine. "If you must know, we have a very vigorous routine we keep to, to bring forth children." Blue eyes filled with amusement met mine. "Isn’t that right, love?"
Unbidden, images of the booth flashed in the back of my mind. The vibrator in my ass. Quinlan’s fingers pushing his cum back into me.
Heat crawled up my neck as my body tightened instantly. "Yes." And when I noticed Tessa’s sharp stare, I leaned into Quinlan and nipped his earlobe, "Very vigorous."
Quinlan’s huff of amusement brushed over my skin and even if we were in public, my spine arched a little bit.
I heard the snap of cutlery from that direction and I smiled cattily at Tessa as I nuzzled Quinlan’s neck.
It was out of character for me and I had no idea what the hell I was doing, just that I liked the terrible expression on her face.
The Queen’s eyes narrowed between us, and settled on my face.
I hated having her full attention. It felt like being held by up by the throat.
"I should hope for some good news soon or I will assume your men require a woman with more skill or a more willing body beneath them. Someone who knows how to lie on her back and do her duty properly."
I couldn’t hold in my flinch.
Her mouth curved. "Or the alternative."
I heard the threat for what it was.
The tension was broken with talks of the Hunt tonight, a strange excitement filling the air, though I felt nothing, having lost my appetite.
"And who might we be hunting tonight?" Lord Graham asked.
The Queen smiled and I swore her eyes were on me as she said, "It’s a surprise."
