Page 97 of Consort's Glory
Margot’s honeyed voice cut through his sour musings, drawing him back to her presence, to the feel of her delicate, blunted claws in his grasp. “Okay, but you’re already planning on changing the world, Theodore. Why not in this way, too? Allies can only make you stronger, if you pick them carefully.”
He brought her hand up to his lips to press a kiss to her knuckles, pleased and chagrined by her faith in him. “My love, you vastly overestimate the number of people who like me.”
“I like you,” she replied instantly.
Another sharp-edged shard of worry, lodged deeper with every shadow that lingered in her eyes, melted away. “That’s all I care about.” He smiled and tilted his cheek into the ridge line of her knuckles. “You and my family — I have all I need.”
“Not if you die.”
His scowl snapped back into place. “I’m not going to die.”
“Not if you have a laundry list of powerful allies, no. Witches learned that lesson seven hundred years ago. Why do you think we formed the Collective?” Margot cast him another shrewd look. “What about Viktor?”
“What about him?”
She blew out an exasperated huff. “You were friends once, right? Why can’t he be an ally? The Merced pack is powerful and stupidly wealthy. They’ve got pull with the major players in the Packlands.”
Theodore made a face. “We haven’t been friends for a long time.”
“Why?”
It had been ten years. Theodore was surprised that the sting of Viktor’s lost friendship lingered still. Shaking his head, he answered, “We had a falling out when we were teenagers.”
Margot tilted her head, her perceptive gaze catching every flicker of emotion in his expression. The bond, too, he was sure. No doubt she could feel the dull ache that never really went away. Stroking the palm of his hand, she asked, “What happened? Viktor said you fought over a girl.” Margot’s tone took on a tartness that made him preen, just a little. “He assured me it wasn’t what it sounded like.”
Theodore reached across the table to rub her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “He didn’t lie. It’s really not what it sounds like. You are my one and only, darling.”
Her smile was brief but full of warmth. “Then what happened?”
“It’s not really a story I can tell,” he hedged. Loyalty to his cousin held his tongue, their blood bond strong despite the animosity Cammie’s mother held for the main branch of the Solbourne family. “But I can tell you that despite being considered a ruffian unfit to grace the halls of the Tower by more than a few, we always considered him family. Some of us… more than others.” He sent her a look from beneath his brows, heavy with implication. “He was very close to one of my cousins.”
Margot’s eyes widened. “Oh. I see.”
“Things went sour, and when I confronted him about it, Viktor and I…” Theodore sighed, the bitter clarity of hindsight making his stomach twist. “I lost my temper. We both said things that we shouldn’t have. After that, he stopped coming around. We went our separate ways. He took on the responsibility of the pack when the previous alpha got into one scrap too many and I became sovereign.”
“So, Viktor and your cousin…”
“Haven’t had any contact since, as far as I’m aware.” He smothered a growl. “Not for lack of trying on my part. I’ve talked to them both, but they’re stubborn, heartbroken fools.”
Margot winced. “Messy.”
“Extremely.”
Using her free hand to pick up one of the bread-things, Margot took her time nibbling the flaky edges as she thought. “Is that a barrier to asking him for help, though?”
Theodore fought his pride in silence for several beats. “No,” he begrudgingly allowed, “no. He… would probably jump at the chance to help.”
Because Viktor was a loyal sort, despite how he’d broken Cammie’s heart. He was also a good, strong leader who would understand the benefits of finally securing a real alliance with the Solbourne family. The Merced pack would become functionally untouchable as long as Theodore wore the crown, so to speak, and the Solbournes would gain sway with the notoriously suspicious Packland alphas.
It was a good idea, even if his pride smarted at the thought of being the one to reach out first.
Margot waited for him to say something else, her expression softly encouraging. In the end, Theodore knew he could deny her nothing. It was a waste of time to try. “Fine,” he sighed, “I’ll call him.”
“Now.”
“Now?” He gave their breakfast — his own good, bloody meal only half eaten — a longing look. “But I’m having breakfast with my consort. And we’re getting married this afternoon. At least let me call him tonight.”
“No,” she pressed, entirely unmoved, “you need to call him now, so he can be at the wedding.”
