Page 44 of Mane Attraction
“The pride’s already gathering at the arena,” Benjamin said, pulling away from the castle with practiced ease. “Lev’s probably pacing himself into a trench by now.”
“He’ll be fine.” Xelene’s voice was steadier than she felt. Through the bond, she could sense Lev’s focus sharpening, that dangerous Alpha energy coiling tight. “He’s more prepared than any king in the pride’s history.”
Benjamin caught her eyes in the rearview mirror. “You really believe that.”
It wasn’t a question. Xelene met his gaze directly. “I’ve seen what he’s capable of when he stops running from himself. Christoph has no idea what he’s unleashed.”
Ten minutes later, the council building rose before them, all gleaming stone and imposing columns designed to intimidate. A single security guard stood near the entrance, his posture suggesting boredom rather than vigilance.
Benjamin parked and turned to face them. “Remember, we’re here for paperwork Christoph requested. Nothing more.”
“Got it.” Janice’s grin was sharp enough to cut glass. “Just three innocent people looking for some very boring documents.”
They approached the guard with Benjamin leading, his natural charm already working its magic. “Afternoon. Councilor Christoph sent me to retrieve some papers from his office. Something about missing trial documentation?”
The guard’s expression shifted from suspicious to merely confused. “He didn’t mention it...”
“Well, he was pretty specific about the urgency at the arena.” Benjamin’s smile was perfectly calibrated—friendly but not trying too hard. “You know how he gets about details.”
“True enough.” The guard stepped aside. “Go ahead. I’ll be out here.”
The council building’s interior was all polished marble and expensive silence. Their footsteps echoed as they navigated corridors lined with portraits of past council members, stern-faced shifters who seemed to judge them from gilded frames.
Christoph’s office was exactly what Xelene expected—oversized desk, leather-bound books arranged for show, and an air of self-importance thick enough to choke on. She moved with the systematic precision that had made her career, her trained eye cataloging every detail.
“Anything that looks remotely suspicious,” she murmured, pulling open desk drawers with practiced efficiency. “Letters, documents, anything handwritten.”
Benjamin rifled through filing cabinets while Janice examined bookshelves, looking for hidden compartments. Minutes ticked by with nothing but the rustle of papers and increasingly frustrated sighs.
“This is a dead end,” Janice muttered, shoving a drawer closed harder than necessary.
Xelene paused, something nagging at the edge of her awareness. The office felt... staged. Too perfect. Too clean. Her gaze swept the room again, noting the expensive rug positioned just slightly off-center beneath Christoph’s desk.
She knelt beside it, running her fingers along the edges. The corner lifted easily enough, revealing a section of floorboard that didn’t quite match the rest.
“Bingo.”
Her fingers found purchase in a small gap, and the board lifted to reveal a hidden compartment stuffed with papers. Not digital files or emails, but actual handwritten correspondence—the kind people used when they desperately needed to avoid electronic trails.
Janice dropped to her knees beside Xelene, and they spread the letters across the floor. The dates went back years, and the handwriting was Crispin’s angular script alternating with Christoph’s more controlled penmanship.
The early letters were merely distasteful—complaints about Lev’s lifestyle, speculation about King Rorick’s health, positioning strategies for Crispin’s eventual challenge. But as Xelene read the more recent letters, the tone shifted into something that made her blood run cold.
“Benjamin,” she called softly. “You need to see this.”
He crossed the room and read over her shoulder, his face growing pale. The most recent letters laid out a plan so coldly calculated it took Xelene’s breath away.
“The old king’s heart condition provides the perfect opportunity,”Crispin had written.“A slight adjustment to his medication, and nature will take its course. Once Lev is isolated and grieving, the final phase can proceed during the loyalty test.”
Christoph’s response was equally chilling.“The assassin is eager to prove himself. Making it look like a challenge gone wrong. The pride will naturally accept you as the successor once Lev is eliminated.”
Benjamin’s hands were shaking. “They murdered my king. They murdered Rorick, and now they’re planning to kill Lev.”
The rage rolling off him was palpable, his lion pushing close to the surface. Xelene could see the shift in his posture and the way his muscles coiled for violence.
“Benjamin.” Her voice cut through his fury like a blade. “Look at me.”
His green eyes snapped to hers, wild with grief and fury.
