Chapter 26 #3
“Logan will never agree to this,” I say finally.
“Then Logan must be persuaded,” the Queen Mother says, her voice hardening. “Or circumvented. The lives at stake matter more than my grandson’s political scruples.”
The statement should shock me—a grandmother suggesting we go against her own grandson’s wishes, potentially undermining his authority before he even takes the throne. But I find myself nodding in agreement, the faces of those unnamed Omegas flashing through my mind.
“I’ll need resources,” I say, the decision forming even as I speak. “Information on the clinics’ security, personnel, schedules. Transportation. Weapons. A team I can trust.”
“All can be arranged,” she replies without hesitation. “Dani has already begun gathering the necessary intelligence. She’ll work with you directly on the operational details.”
The speed of her response confirms my suspicion that this conversation was planned well in advance. The Queen Mother has been several steps ahead of us all along, preparing for this moment while we fumbled through our escape from the capital.
“And Maya?” I ask, the question that’s been burning in my mind since she first suggested this alternate approach. “What role do you envision for her in this plan?”
The Queen Mother’s expression softens slightly, something like genuine concern flickering across her features. “None, if possible. Her testimony, her experiences, will be crucial in the political phase that follows the direct action. Risking her unnecessarily now would be foolish.”
Relief washes through me, though I’m careful not to show it. At least in this, our interests align. Maya has suffered enough.
The assessment is accurate enough that I can’t dispute it, though loyalty compels me to offer some defense. “He’s trying to change. To be better.”
“Trying is not the same as succeeding,” she points out. “And in matters of such importance, intentions matter far less than actions.”
Again, I can’t argue with her logic. Logan’s intentions toward Maya may have improved, but his actions continue to reflect the entitled Alpha mindset he was raised with. The forced bond itself is evidence enough of that.
“I’ll speak with Dani tomorrow,” I say, returning to practical matters rather than dwelling on Logan’s flaws. “Begin planning the first operation. But I want to be clear about one thing, Your Highness.”
“Yes?” she prompts when I pause.
“I’m not betraying Logan,” I state firmly. “I’m prioritizing the immediate threat to women’s lives over political considerations. There’s a difference.”
The Queen Mother studies me for a long moment, her golden eyes unreadable in the moonlight. Then she nods, a single sharp movement that seems to settle something in her mind.
“A semantic distinction,” she says finally. “But one I’ll accept for now. Just remember, Poe—the moment may come when you have to choose between your loyalty to my grandson and what is right.”
“I understand, Your Highness,” I say quietly. “And I’ll do what needs to be done when the time comes.”
As I step back into the garden, the night air cool against my heated skin, I sense rather than see Dani emerge from the shadows. She falls into step beside me, her movements silent on the gravel path.
“So,” she says after a moment. “You in?”
I glance at her, taking in the professional assessment in her dark eyes. “You knew what she was going to propose.”
Dani shrugs, the gesture casual but her eyes remain watchful. “I helped her plan it. The clinics need to be hit hard and fast. Your prince’s approach is too slow, too cautious.”
“And you’re what—the Queen Mother’s personal strike team?”
“Something like that,” she admits. “I handle problems that require... direct solutions.”
I study her more carefully, recognizing a kindred spirit in the way she carries herself, the careful awareness of her surroundings, the readiness for violence that never quite leaves her posture.
“You were military,” I observe. “Special operations, from your movement patterns. But not royal guard—they don’t train women for combat roles.”
She smiles, genuine amusement lighting her features. “Close. I was military, but not in any unit you’d find in official records. The Queen Mother has maintained her own security force for decades—all female, all highly trained, all absolutely loyal to her rather than the crown.”
The revelation shouldn’t surprise me, but it does. The idea that the Queen Mother has operated her own private military force under the king’s nose for years speaks to a level of independence—and potential threat—I hadn’t fully appreciated until now.
“And now you’re planning to hit the fertility clinics,” I say, bringing the conversation back to the immediate concern.
“Planning, yes. Executing, hopefully with your help.” Dani stops walking, turning to face me directly. “I’ve got twelve operators ready to move, but we need someone who knows the Inquisitor’s methods, his security protocols. Someone who can think like him.”
“Someone like me,” I translate.
“Exactly.” She studies me with professional assessment, her gaze lingering on the way I position myself, always angled for maximum visibility, maximum reaction time. “The Queen Mother says you’re the best she’s ever seen. High praise, coming from her.”
I say nothing, uncomfortable with both the compliment and the implication that the Queen Mother has been watching me for years, evaluating my skills without my knowledge.
“So,” Dani prompts again. “Are you in? Because if not, I need to know now so we can adjust our planning accordingly.”
I think of the women in those clinics, of what they must be enduring even now.
Of Maya, who survived the Inquisitor’s experiments but carries the scars, both physical and mental.
Of what Logan would say if he knew I was considering acting without his authorization, potentially undermining his authority before he even takes the throne.
But in the end, it’s not really a choice at all.
“I’m in,” I say simply. “When do we start?”
Dani’s smile is sharp as a blade in the moonlight. “Tomorrow. First light. Don’t be late.”
She melts back into the shadows with impressive skill, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the weight of the decision I’ve just made. A decision that could save countless lives or cost me everything I value.
Or possibly both.
I resume my patrol of the perimeter, my steps silent on the gravel path, my senses alert for any sign of threat. But my mind is already elsewhere, already planning the assault on the first clinic, already calculating risks and resources and potential casualties.
Already preparing for the moment when Logan discovers what I’ve done, and I have to face the consequences of choosing lives over loyalty.