was free to choose a different mate, which he did. But now Nalia is back from the dead. And though Galen is younger than Grom, he’s still from the same generation—and the next heir in line for the Triton kingship if something were to befall his brother.
This cannot be happening.
“I can’t believe our parents wanted more offspring after you,” Rayna tells Grom. Even hoarse, she’s still able to infuse her irritation in each forced word. “After birthing an idiot like you, I’d never even think about having more—”
“Quiet, Rayna,” Emma shouts. Emma has obviously learned how to deal with his sister; Rayna leans back against the headboard of the bed and makes her poutiest face. “He’s not finished. Keep going, Grom. We’re listening.”
Grom folds his hands in front of him. “Keep going with what, Emma?”
“The but,” she says.
“The … the but?” Grom throws an inquisitive glare to Galen, but he pretends not to notice. There’s no point. He’s got no idea why Emma’s talking about butts.
“You know,” Emma says, full of polite and calm. “Galen’s in line to become Nalia’s mate, but . That’s where you left off.”
“Ah.” Grom motions for Toraf to move his legs so he can sit on the bed across from Emma. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer after the ‘but’ this time.”
Emma stiffens at Galen’s side, and he instinctively tightens his hold on her. He’s positive he can feel the makings of a temper tantrum rumbling through her. “Oh. So what you’re saying is that you’re out of your freaking mind.”
Grom crosses his arms. This could be bad.
Emma tugs herself from Galen’s grasp and stands. Galen knows he shouldn’t have let her free, because she’s definitely got tantrum all over her face, but he’s too curious to see how Grom will react. After all, Grom fell in love with the very female who pulled a knife on Galen. He figures Grom is due for his own battle.
“Galen is not mating with my mother. My mother is not mating with Galen. So run along to your new bride, and leave us all alone.”
Galen hears Rayna whisper, “What’s a bride?” but he keeps his eyes on Grom, who takes his time standing up, squaring his shoulders. He’s seen Grom do this before. Make himself appear as big as possible by invading the space of whoever he’s trying to intimidate. A challenge. This is the part where the other person backs down.
But the other person has never been Emma. She steps toward the Triton king. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re still here,” she says.
Grom’s face softens into what could be amusement. “You and I don’t know each other, little one. But I think we both know I’m not leaving.”
“You and I seem to disagree on a lot of points,” Emma returns.
“Not as much as you think.” Grom smiles down at her. “For instance, we both agree that Galen mating with your mother is the worst possible outcome imaginable.”
“Is there a ‘but’ to this statement?”
“ But, before this gets out of hand, I think we should attempt to fix things the right way.”
“Which is?”
“Which is trying to get my mating with Paca unsealed, to start.”
Emma frowns. “Trying? What’s to try? You’re the king. Call it off.”
Galen stands and puts a hand on Emma’s shoulder. “It’s not that simple. The king can overturn mating bonds for others, but not his own. For that, he has to appeal to the body of Archives. It resembles the checks-and-balance system of some human governments we learned about in school.”
“But this isn’t a problem,” Nalia calls from her seat. “The Archives never go against the wishes of the throne.”
“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Grom says.
“We’re the firstborn heirs,” Nalia counters. “There is nothing complicated about that. The law is very plain regarding that particular issue. Even you and I couldn’t find a way out of it all those years ago, if you’ll recall.”
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