Moira Rogers - Crossroads

“Enrica Maglieri knows a thing or two about uncharted territory,” Alec reminded her. “If the Conclave put her in charge of this mess, we’ve got to assume at least half of them are hoping she’ll fuck it up and prove once and for all that women can’t take care of business. It makes her a lot more dangerous, but it means the Conclave won’t exactly have her back.”

Which gave them a little wiggle room, but not enough for Nick’s peace of mind. “They’re not going to like the way Enrica’s wasting time with the marriage proposal, but that doesn’t mean any one of them would let Michelle and Aaron walk, either.”

“Nope. But the more they’re fighting amongst themselves, the better off we are.”

“Maybe.” Nick tossed the washed berries in a bowl and dug a bottle of maple syrup from the pantry. “I have to ask you a question. A serious one.”

“Sure.”

She swallowed hard and met Alec’s steady gaze. “Do you think Enrica could convince them to let it go if I did it? If I married Luciano?”

Alec hesitated, which was usually a bad sign, but there was no doubt in his voice when he replied. “I think she’d try, kiddo. But I think your sister’s days would be numbered the minute you signed the contract. The Conclave might tolerate Enrica, but that tolerance won’t last if they think she went behind their backs to snatch up a pet Seer.”

Nick forced herself to breathe as she pulled plates and silverware from the breakfront and arranged them on the table. A sick, icy knot settled in her stomach. “I have no other way to protect Michelle, and the help you’ve given us already could get you executed.”

“Well, I’ve got an idea on how to work this.” He sat at the table and waited until she sank into the chair across from him before continuing. “It could keep Michelle safe…but it wouldn’t exactly be a shining step forward toward enlightenment for our kind.”

Most of the wolves with a family legacy didn’t give a shit about enlightenment. They cared about tradition. The ones who’d run, or who’d never been embraced by the ruling class to begin with, just wanted to be left alone. “What is it?”

“Two parts.” He held up one finger. “Convince them that their superstition is right, and Michelle’s not a threat anymore since she had sex. Not exactly a girl-power message, but under the circumstances it might be best. That’s the hard part.”

“Girl power makes a lot more sense when you’re alive to enjoy it.” Nick nudged a fork out of the way and folded her hands on the table. “What’s the easy part?”

“Take yourself out of the line of succession. That’ll keep them so busy stabbing each other in the back over who gets to become the next top dog that they won’t care about Michelle unless she’s a direct threat.”

“Efficient. And if someone gets impatient, it could get my father killed.”

Alec leaned forward, his eyes intense. “You think your father isn’t under just as much of a threat every goddamned day? People are terrified he’s going to shove you down their throats as the first female Alpha. John Wesley Peyton can take care of himself, my girl.”

“I guess so.” The harsh words twisted the knot in Nick’s stomach tighter. Her skin felt cold and hot at the same time, and nausea made her sway in her chair. “You’ve spent a lot of time with Derek. Is he going to make it through this?”

“I can’t make any promises.” Alec brushed his fingers over her hand. “But he’s tough enough. You just have to go easy on him, kiddo. Especially when people start showing up trying to talk you into marriage.”

“I have crappy timing.” Nick pushed her damp hair back. “It shouldn’t have to be this hard for him.”

“Yeah, well, he can get at the back of the line when it comes to pouting over it. It’s not like Jackson didn’t have to put up with just as much shit, and he’s not dumb enough to blame Mackenzie for it.”

Jackson hadn’t had a ton of very new, very confusing instincts to deal with, either. Nick shoved a fork at Alec. “Eat. Luciano should be here soon.”

She stabbed a waffle with her own fork and reached for the strawberries. It would take time to put Alec’s plan into motion, so maybe they’d still be able to snatch a few hours of peace before all hell broke loose. If Derek could control his reactions enough to get through the next few hours, they’d have some time. Not enough, but some.

If there were two words Derek wouldn’t have picked to describe Luciano Maglieri, they were “punk” and “cowboy”. The man who arrived on Nick’s doorstep was handsome, immaculately clothed and groomed, and looked like he’d stepped out of a lineup of New York City’s most eligible bachelors.

Luciano was pretty much everything Derek wasn’t, and it sucked.

“Come in, Luke. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Nicole.” Luciano stepped inside and leaned over to drop a kiss to Nick’s cheek. She tensed and pulled away, and the man raised his eyes to Derek. “Hi. I’m Luke Maglieri.”

If you put your lips on her again, I’ll send you back to your mother in pieces. Derek was proud that he only sounded slightly surly. “Hi. I’m Derek.”

Nick kept her hand wrapped firmly around his, something Luciano acknowledged with a small smile. “I see my intentions aren’t a secret, either.”

“Let’s sit down,” Nick suggested, “and we can talk about things.”

Alec waited in the living room, sprawled in one of Nick’s chairs with his legs stretched out in front of him and his ankles crossed. “Howdy, cowboy. How’s the ranch?”

“It’s fine, thank you.” Luciano straightened his suit jacket. “Foaled some impressive animals this year.”

Nick indicated the chair near Alec’s and steered Derek toward a love seat. “I’m glad your operation is doing well. I’m equally sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“I thought it might be that way.” Luciano grinned as he sat down. “I hope you won’t be offended if I express my earnest relief at your refusal.”

It was almost too good to be true. Derek tightened his fingers around Nick’s hand and watched Luciano’s face. “You don’t want to marry her?”

“Actually, no.” He seemed sincere. “Not that you’re not lovely, Nicole. But the last thing I want is control of the Conclave.”

“We have that much in common,” she admitted.

Luciano’s vaguely cool, polite demeanor thawed a little. “I was sorry to hear about Michelle’s situation.”

Derek glanced at Alec, who shrugged one shoulder in a tiny, almost invisible gesture. Nick just sat a little straighter. “What was your mother offering? The terms, I mean.”

A lock of dark hair fell over Luciano’s forehead, and he brushed it back. “Aaron Spencer would be given a private execution. She couldn’t budge on that. Michelle would be spared, and the baby would become a ward of the Conclave. You and I would be married, with a prenuptial agreement stipulating division of assets and—and heirs.”

Nick made a soft noise and leaned closer to Derek. “Those are shitty terms, Luke.”

“I know.”

Nick’s pain grated painfully against Derek’s instincts. He dropped her hand and curled his arm around her shoulders instead, holding her against his side. “So if you know it’s shitty, why are you here?”

He blinked. “Because I was told to come.”

“What if they tell you to hurt Nick or Michelle?”

Luciano’s expression melted into one of shock, and he glanced at Alec. “Is he serious?”

Alec snorted. “If you’d spent the last two years getting spit on by the ruling elite the way he has, you’d be asking the same damn question, kid.”