13. Laughably Simple
13
Laughably Simple
Caspian
It’s been twenty-four hours and there’s absolutely no reasoning with Annalise.
Not since last night have I been able to pull even a single word out of her. She uttered a firm, “Go,” as she slipped back into her underwear and not-so-politely instructed me to leave her bedroom. Now, tonight, she wouldn’t even look my way as she stood beside me in the ballroom.
It would’ve been nice if we could’ve suffered through Ms. Dawson’s introductions together , but it seems I’m on my own, proving that Annalise is true to her word.
She is, indeed, as she so bluntly stated… ‘still pissed’.
I haven’t heard a single word that’s left Creed’s mouth since he, Dimitri, and Archibald stepped foot inside my office this evening. I believe the gist of their being here is to debrief after the event, but there’s no point. This whole process—the new mates, adding to the household—is not only ruining what sliver of a chance I have at actually making Annalise happy, it’s also ruining my life.
It's times like this, when my duty to the clan outweighs my own personal desires, that I question whether it’s even worth it. But then I remember my father’s and grandfather’s sacrifices, and I sober up. While it would be nice to put my own needs first, I will always do what’s best for Clan Centauri.
Always.
No matter the cost.
My thoughts shift back to the introductions, and I can’t even recall a single name or face other than Ms. Dawson’s. Not one candidate stood out or impressed me. It has nothing to do with their looks or personalities not being up to snuff. They simply aren’t what I want.
They aren’t her.
They aren’t… Annalise.
I imagine trying to assimilate these women into the estate. The idea of holding a conversation with them is hard enough, but the thought of sharing my bed with strangers is something I can’t even fathom.
“Am I speaking too fast?” Creed asks, thinking he’s the reason I’ve just buried my face in my hands and groaned.
“No. Continue. Please.”
He picks up where he left off, and I force myself to at least look like I’m paying attention. Those in my circle not privy to the details of my medical condition view my circumstance as an audacious display of masculinity. But what they don’t know is that bringing in multiple mates is actually a reminder of my weakness, my own impending mortality that I can’t outrun.
That my father couldn’t outrun.
“Before we conclude, there’s one last thing I’d like to bring to the table,” Creed says, and the gravity in his tone has me shoving my own shit aside to actually listen.
“What is it?”
“Well,” he says, pausing to take a breath, “as you know, we launched a taskforce whose sole focus is on finding out whatever they can about the faction. And the latest update we received is that there are frequent underground meetings being held. Almost weekly, in fact,” he adds. “The agenda seems to be pretty straight forward, and it’s always the same. They aim to overthrow the High Chamber and overhaul the clan’s system, start fresh with their own ideals in place.”
“So, they’re getting more organized. Fucking perfect,” I sigh. “Are we any closer to bringing them down?”
“So far, our team has only observed fringe groups that have cropped up here and there. They mostly just seem to idolize the principles of the actual faction. Basically, they’re wannabes, posers playing house,” Creed says. “So, no insight into who the real key players are, but we’re working on it.”
“I’m guessing the odds of these fringe groups having any clue who’s really behind all this is pretty slim?”
Creed nods. “Miniscule, actually. But what we do know is the name the group seems to be going by.”
“Which is?”
“Order of the Death Adder,” Creed answers.
“If you ask me, it’s time we involve Knox,” Dimitri speaks up. As much as I wish he was wrong, the situation has progressed too far and too quickly not to get our clan general, Knox Carrington, involved.
“Agreed. Arrange a meeting with him in the morning.”
Dimitri nods, acknowledging my order.
“Gentlemen, I think it may be time we admit what involving General Carrington truly means,” Archibald says, and there’s no missing the solemnity in his tone. “The role of our general is to command our army. So, is that our next course of action? Are we truly of the mind that Clan Centauri may be heading toward civil war?”
Just hearing him say those words has the hair on the back of my neck standing on end.
“It’s my hope that it won’t come to that, Archibald, but… it’s always better to be ready than to be caught off guard and have to get ready.”
My answer seems to satisfy him, knowing I’m not implying that war is inevitable, but I believe we would all be wise to accept that it is a possibility.
“Wouldn’t now be a good time to alert the other clans of our growing problem?” Archibald asks. “After all, what’s considered our problem today could quickly spread to become the other clans’ problem tomorrow.”
He isn’t wrong, but I’m reluctant to jump the gun. I’m also especially cautious about alerting Phaedra Bellrose, Clan Sedna’s alpha, that something’s amiss. She’s a notorious opportunist, and with everything else we’re contending with, I’d rather keep the vultures—or vulture— at bay.
“For now, we’ll handle the problem in-house. While I agree with your logic, we also have to consider that, to some degree, this faction is an indication that there’s a weakening of our foundation. If our people are not only questioning our way of life, but rebelling against it, we may be sitting on a house of cards and not even know it.”
My explanation has all three men silent and somber, but I only aim to give them a realistic outlook on our circumstances.
“Then it’s settled,” Creed says. “We’ll hold off for now, but if things take a turn, we’ll consider enlisting help from the other clans.”
I nod in his direction. “Yes, and hopefully, it will never come to that.”
That same stifling silence creeps in from before, and I’m certain the others are also pleading with the gods to have mercy on us.
Creed stands, and after collecting the documents he brought in for our discussion, he and Archibald exit. Dimitri stays behind, and I feel his eyes on me as I focus my attention on a small stack of papers on the corner of my desk. They need to be reviewed and signed, and while they could certainly wait until a more suitable hour, I need the distraction. Otherwise, I’ll spin out trying to predict what the future holds for Annalise and me.
“Is there something else?” I ask, wondering why my brother’s stuck around.
“Nothing nearly as official as Creed presented. I just thought I’d check in. You know, brother-to-brother, see how you’re feeling about the introductions.”
He would want to discuss the one topic I’d rather avoid tonight.
“The only thing to report is that I’ve taken a step toward securing the future of Clan Centauri.”
I scrawl my signature across a document as Dimitri scoffs.
“That’s all there is to report?” he asks, and it’s clear he has an opinion he’d like to share. “Come on. You expect me to believe you’re not about to burst out of your pants at the thought of having four women at your disposal? All sopping wet, desperate to be the alpha’s favorite? Desperate to win your affection?”
When I peer up, he’s grinning from ear-to-ear, but it fades when he seems to have a conflicting thought.
“Well, all of them except the pup, of course. The gods know that one can never be brought to her knees.”
I’m annoyed by this conversation, annoyed by Dimitri knowing my condition and still thinking this arrangement is about sex and ego, but I’m fighting a smile. Because his deduction of Annalise is spot on. She is one who can absolutely never be brought to her knees; however, I’ve been brought to mine per her request too many times to count.
I lower my gaze to the next piece of paper I bring in front of me, deciding not to feed into Dimitri’s bullshit tonight.
“Don’t you have a briefing to prepare for General Carrington? He’ll need to be brought up to speed in the morning.”
I’m not looking at him, but I can clearly imagine the smile fading from my brother’s face.
He sighs, and I’m guessing he’s realized he’s overstayed his welcome. Without another word, he rises from his seat, then exits my study, leaving me with my loud thoughts.
I have a feeling that the decision to take on multiple mates without disclosing my medical condition will lead to a life of forever defending my choice. I’ll have to either get accustomed to being seen as a gluttonous ruler with an ego the size of New Eden, or I’ll have to tell the truth. And as I sit at my desk, fighting demons that seem to be gaining strength by the minute, I hate both options with a fucking passion.
Because if it were up to me, if it were only a matter of choosing a mate based on my heart’s desire, the decision would be laughably simple.
I’d choose Annalise, and Annalise only.
In a heartbeat.
Every damn day.