Page 45 of Mane Attraction
“If you go after Crispin now, Christoph will have you arrested for murder. Lev will be alone and defenseless tomorrow, and we’ll have no way to stop the assassination.” She stood slowly, her mind already racing through possibilities. “We need to be smarter than they are.”
“Then what do you suggest?” His voice was barely controlled.
Xelene felt the familiar thrill of a plan crystallizing in her mind. “You intercept the assassin tomorrow during the loyalty test. But for now, Janice and I are going to follow Crispin from the moment he leaves the arena today. We need to identify who the assassin is and give you a clear target.”
Benjamin nodded slowly, his breathing evening out. “And if you get into trouble?”
“We won’t.” Xelene’s confidence was absolute. “We’ve tailed plenty of targets before. This isn’t our first conspiracy.”
They gathered the letters, photographing each one with Janice’s communicator before replacing them exactly as they’d found them. The floorboard went back into place, and the rug repositioned with mathematical precision.
As they left the council building, Xelene felt Lev’s presence brush against her mind.
Just passed the wisdom test,his mental voice was warm with triumph and exhaustion.
Congratulations,she projected back.Benjamin will fill you in on everything tonight. I have work to do.
Xelene.
Trust me.The words carried all the certainty she felt.I’m not going anywhere.
His relief flooded through the bond, followed by something that felt dangerously like love.
Once near the arena, Benjamin climbed out of the driver’s seat while Janice slipped behind the wheel. The afternoon crowd was dispersing, pride members chatting excitedly about their future king’s impressive performance.
“Be careful,” Benjamin said, his eyes lingering on Janice with a burning intensity that made Xelene’s chest tight. “Both of you.”
“We will be.” Janice’s smile was soft, different from her usual sharp grin. “Watch for our signal tomorrow.”
Xelene scanned the crowd until she spotted Crispin’s distinctive blonde head moving toward a sleek black vehicle. “There. The obsidian sedan.”
Janice started the engine as Crispin pulled away from the arena. They followed at a careful distance, just another car in the evening traffic. Xelene’s pulse hammered against her throat as the reality of what they were doing hit her fully.
This was dangerous.
But the thought of Lev facing an assassin tomorrow, of losing him before she’d even admitted what he meant to her, made everything else fade to background noise.
“You know,” Janice said conversationally as they trailed Crispin through the winding streets, “when I suggested you find a man and settle down, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Despite everything, Xelene found herself smiling. “Life’s full of surprises.”
“That it is.” Janice’s eyes were bright with mischief and determination. “So, are we going to save your lion prince and live happily ever after?”
The words should have sent Xelene running. Instead, they felt like coming home.
“We’re going to try.”
THIRTY
LEV
Lev stood before the ornate mirror in his private chambers, adjusting the ceremonial jacket that marked him as prince of the Marcan Pride. The rich blue material, embossed with the golden crest of his bloodline, should have filled him with pride. Instead, it felt like armor he was donning for what might be his final battle.
His hands trembled—not with fear, but with barely contained rage that had been simmering since Benjamin delivered the devastating news yesterday. They’d murdered his father. Christoph and Crispin had tampered with King Rorick’s heart medication, turning a manageable condition into a death sentence, all to clear their path to the throne.
Vengeance,his lion snarled, pacing restlessly.Hunt them. Kill them. Make them pay for what they’ve done.
Lev’s reflection showed eyes that glowed with dangerous golden fire, the beast within demanding blood for blood. Every instinct screamed at him to shift, to track down the conspirators and tear them apart with claws and fangs. It would be easy. It would be satisfying. It would be exactly what the old Lev would have done—act on impulse, consequences be damned.
