Page 41 of The Ice Prince's Fated Mate
I smiled. It was all I could do.
That, and hope I wasn’t broken beyond repair.
Twenty
Dirk
“Something wrong,brother?”
I ignored the casual sarcasm from Caz, just as I refrained from glancing down to where he sat on the throne to my left, his hand resting casually on top of Anna’s. We were in the throne room, and before us was assembled the Council, the informal body representing the most powerful Elites in the kingdom.
“What do you mean?” I asked from the corner of my mouth, doing my best to look the part of the unflappable Ice Prince, exactly as was expected of me.
Though hopefully that would not be the case for much longer. Now that Anna had been fully claimed by Caz, she should enter her first heat sooner rather than later. While dragons weren’t a fruitful species, especially compared to our lifespans, I hoped an heir would be produced quickly. I would be more than happy to no longer be the second in line.
Which I suppose I am now. Technically, Anna could rule if something happened to Caz, though I doubt many would be willing to accept her. Yet.
I stifled a smile. In the coming weeks, they would get to know Anna much better, and I could not wait. Some of the Elites werein for a rude awakening if they thought she was just going to be a passenger with Caz.
No, the only reason I would step up and take the throne would be to stop someone like Mirko or his son, Andrik. The chance to step back from politics was beyond attractive, and I loathed my uncle for forcing me to stay near and take the risk that someone would eventually link me to a past better forgotten.
Especially for Caz.
“You’ve been fidgeting tirelessly for the past twenty minutes while we wait for Mirko to get here and tell us why he called for this assembly,” Caz said, speaking just loudly enough for me to hear and no one else. “Not to mention your alpha power is like a maelstrom in the room. Everyone can sense it, and that’s not you.”
Was it? Damn. I focused my mind, dampening the outflow of power until it was little more than a trickle, glad for the distraction. I focused on keeping control. Now was not the time for letting others realize how on edge I was.
“What’s going on with you?”
I grunted a negative, not wanting to explain. How could I convince Caz that I was freaking out because I had promised Ella I would fix things and not screw them up further?
Perhaps I should have stayed away. There’s still time. That way she won’t get hurt when my attempt fails.
I resolutely did not allow myself to think what her reaction was going to be to my first attempt. It wasn’t done yet, and I knew if I dwelled on it too long, I would abandon the idea as being too awkward.
Why did this have to be so uncomfortable? I stilled my hand as it started to fidget. This was the way it had to be. Ella needed me to show her that I was different, that I wasn’t like Mirko, orDamon, or any of a hundred other Elites I could name. She had to know I would take care of her and not hurt her.
A swirl of anger thatanyonewould want to harm her coursed through me just as the doors to the throne room opened.
Muted conversations sprang up across the rows of seated and standing Elites as they turned to see what was going on. Nobody, not even Caz, knew what was about to happen, but we were as prepared as we could be, having planned all night for various outcomes to the meeting.
“Calm, brother,” Caz urged as some of my power slipped my guard at the sight of our uncle.
I fought to get under control as he approached, the hideous birthmark that ran the length of his face catching my eye, as always. He wasn’t alone, accompanied by a fancily dressed and immaculately groomed shifter, his son, Andrik. A third shifter was with them as well, an elderly woman who had to be approaching the day she would abandon her human self and become a Pure Dragon.
Did she have a mate to go with her?
An image of Ella and me centuries from now, making that same choice, flitted through my head with an eagerness completely at odds with the rage slowly filling the rest of me.
“Any idea who that is?” I whispered.
“None.” Caz’s voice was taut, focused.
This was not something we were ready for, and his mind would be focused now, exploring every option, every path forward that Mirko might take.
I lifted my gaze from Mirko’s birthmarked visage, letting Caz focus on what was right in front of us. That was his responsibility. Mine was to spot what Caz might miss, and right then, I wanted to see what everyoneelsewas thinking. Who inthe crowd of the most powerful would be aware of what Mirko was doing, and thus who did Caz have to watch out for?
My first thought was Damon, the most vocal of Caz’s critics and someone who had nearly challenged Caz for the throne when he first ascended. But the big, burly Elite was staring at Mirko with a slight crease between his eyebrows. Damon was just as confused as the rest of us.
