14. Stella

14

STELLA

“Ah, I see that you recognize me.” The woman I’d last seen while I was naked and covered in the ejaculate of a certain unscrupulous gargoyle bows her head. “Of course, I’d like to apologize for our previous meeting.”

When Stoneheart mentioned Ariel wanted an audience with me, he hadn’t warned me that she was the one who interrupted us. The sting of that adds to my already flourishing anger.

“Fuck you,” I spit, and the gasps from other tables bring me back to where I am. I’m surrounded by shifters who are watching this unfold like reality television. I try to reel myself in, but the humiliation of that moment is fresh.

Ben’s eyes are wide, but Ariel Leonid, my aunt and Council spy, doesn’t take offense, instead her smile is soft.

“I’m glad to see you have such fire. Have you ordered? Pepper really has the best appetizers.” Her calmness aggravates me even as I’m still trying to breathe. I want to leave.

“I find I’m without an appetite,” I grit out as I move to push Ben out of the booth so I can get out of here without incident.

I don’t think of myself as a violent person, but I was already struggling with this meeting, knowing I’d be conversing with someone who could have been involved in my mother’s exile before Ariel’s own slight toward me became known.

“That’s a shame. I was hoping we could set up a weekly date here.” Her tone is polite, face expressionless.

The audacity of this woman has me freezing. “Excuse me?”

Ariel sighs and sets the menu down. The waiter approaches, but she waves him away. “Stella, please understand that if I wasn’t the one who reported your claiming to the Council, they would have resorted to different tactics that would have left us more vulnerable.”

“Us?” I ask, my eyes narrowing.

“The territory. I don’t expect you to like me, but I care about the well-being of our people.”

The reminder of those who are suddenly relying on me is a slap, but I’m not ready to cede any ground to this woman.

“Is that why my mother was thrown out?”

Ariel doesn’t react to that how I’d expect. “How is Elena?”

“Keep her name out of your mouth.” Fuck, I need to leave before I cause worse gossip than what will already exist. I thought I could be calm about this, refined, but the anger that was supposed to vanish when I accomplished my revenge is just below the surface, ready for a new target.

Ariel clears her throat and sadness flickers over her face. “I see that this will not be the meeting I hoped for.”

“And what did you hope for?” Ben asks. There’s an undercurrent of something forbidding in his tone that reassures me. He’ll stand by whatever I decide.

The woman’s eyes are sad but determined. “I wanted to meet my niece and to confide in the lady of the territory.”

Shame threatens to suffocate me. I have responsibilities that demand I suppress the anger that has picked up to fury in my chest, but I don’t know how to put my personal feelings aside. As if sensing my need, Ben takes my hand below the tablecloth.

The steady pulse of his palm against mine has me closing my eyes, my breathing starts out shaky but soon calms now that the eyes of the people surrounding us are hidden from my sight.

“What did you want to confide?” I ask.

Ariel is a little older than my mother, but when she leans back into the booth cushions the lines of her face deepen with weariness. “There are things that you don’t know about the history of this territory. I wish to help you.”

My personal affront dims. “Because you care about the people here?”

“I would not have risked alienating my niece otherwise.” Her brows furrow in sincerity. “There were whispers that if your wedding were a sham, a portion of the Council would petition it be disbanded and the territory restored to others who were closer to my brother. Like Frank,” she spits. “I couldn’t risk that.”

“You could have lied,” Ben says. “Said you interrupted?—”

Ariel tuts. “Not without witnesses attesting that I saw what I did.”

“And if you hadn’t seen what you did. What would you have done then?” I ask.

Ariel takes a sip of her water, her eyes casting around the dining room. “I’m happy it didn’t come to that.”

Because she had seen that Stoneheart claimed me. Witnessed that it was done in a passionate embrace.

And if she hadn’t, she would have lied to the Council. She’s right. I don’t especially like her right now but being loyal to the people you care about is an admirable trait.

“How do you wish to help?” I ask.

“If you would be willing, I mentioned I’d like to have a weekly meeting with you to discuss the business of the territory. The gossip, the situations, and give you my understanding and counsel.”

This could very well be a way to try and remain relevant. I don’t know how involved Ariel was with the running of the territory under my father, but it’s not too much of a stretch for her actions to be to retain influence.

But more information is better than none, even if it’s delivered on biased lips.

“Should we do that meeting somewhere more…private?” I ask. I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this, but I wish to be an asset to Stoneheart. As I told Ben, this is my job now, and I want to be good at it.

Ariel raises an amused brow.

“Shifters make up the majority of the magical population in this territory. We have no boundaries and are incredibly nosey. Secrets don’t stay that way for long.” Her eyes glance over to Ben for a moment with meaning before continuing, “But if you would prefer meeting somewhere private, I’m happy to accommodate.”

“Do you have any current concerns you’d like me to consider?” I ask. The missing families come to mind. Silas had detailed the dead ends they were facing in trying to get solid numbers on who is missing in the morning meeting. It had been grim.

“People are scared,” Ariel says. “My brother ruled this territory with blood and pain. The people fear that possibility with their new leader.”

“Stoneheart isn’t like him.” I’ve spent more time in our marriage upset with the gargoyle than not, but he has a code of conduct. The details I’ve gleaned from rumors over the years attest to that.

“He’s not one of us,” she says.

I scoff. “Neither am I.”

“That’s not true. Everyone has always known that you are a Leonid. Your scent identifies you as family.”

I’m momentarily speechless. “Then why?—”

“There was no protecting you from Lorenzo when he decided he didn’t want you. If it wasn’t because you were a witch, it would have been something else. The safest thing for you was to be out of sight and out of mind.” Ariel clears her throat. “Either way, dominance fights are not the way to win over the populace.”

Ah, the pit fighting.

“Stoneheart has won over more territories than the either of us. He knows what he’s doing,” I say.

“But he hasn’t won over this one. The people need a reason to hope. They see you as that hope. The rightful heir returned after years of suffering under Lorenzo.”

My eyes widen. No pressure, Stella .

Ariel continues, “And the best way to reassure the people would be for them to see that your relationship with Stoneheart is solid. That you have the influence to sway him away from the violence that comes with his reputation.”

I open my mouth to object. Stoneheart doesn’t need me to gentle him, but Ariel goes on, not meeting my eyes. “They need to be able to scent you on each other.”

My mouth snaps shut, and my cheeks burn. So, everyone knows that I haven’t fucked my husband. Great.

“And that would solve everything?” My disbelief is clear, but so is my frustration. “Stoneheart is out there right now making the territory a safer place, but he is struggling to do that because people won’t speak to him.”

Ben squeezes my hidden hand in support.

Ariel’s shoulders droop. “Speaking out hasn’t resulted in good things in the past. The habit of silence has been carved so deeply that verbal promises of peace will hardly help. The scent mixing will instinctually provide comfort. Your mate will find people more forthcoming if they scent you on him.”

I take a sip of water to allow myself time to think about that. This is what Silas mentioned and pushed for, just not in such plain terms. He recommendations were softer, like sleeping in the same bed, compared to my aunt telling us to raw dog it.

Ariel nods like she’s said her piece before adding an afterthought. “The possibility of an heir would also do much for the stability of the area.”

I choke on my water. “What?”

Ariel purses her lips primly. “People want to know that you’re both committed here. That you’re staying, and this is your home. It may be traditional advice, but it is time tested.”

My eyebrows can’t get any higher, but somehow, I can still speak. “I struggle to believe that me getting pregnant will help with anything.”

She shrugs, as if sensing that pushing this issue will cause me to crack.

“I see that I may have startled you with these observations. I’ll leave you to consider my words. Please call me if you have any questions. I would like for us to be on friendly terms.”

“What the fuck?” I whisper as Ariel leaves us with a respectful nod.

The rest of the restaurant goes back to the usual volume since they’re done eavesdropping. I’m too stunned to roll my eyes.

“Let’s go.” Ben’s voice is gruffer than usual, but his touch is soft as he directs me out of the booth and restaurant. It was probably rude to use a table without ordering anything, but Stoneheart does own the building.

Fuck fuck fuck. My skin is cold as I’m stuck between reactions. Anger at the expectations being thrust on me, frustration that the people in the territory want so much when I’ve already given up everything that makes me who I am, and fear of what the Council will try if Stoneheart fails to calm the territory.

We’ve only just stepped into an empty elevator when Ben teleports us directly to the penthouse.

I gasp and nearly fall at the abrupt change. My stomach flips at the abrupt change in scenery and swirl of colors.

“Are you all right?” Ben’s arms come up around me. “Sorry, you usually don’t have this reaction to teleporting.”

I don’t reward his observation with a reaction. Teleporting is never comfortable, but it’s usually better if I have time to close my eyes first. I’m still stuck on some very prominent details of Ariel’s advice.

“No, I’m not all right,” I say. “Strangers want me to get pregnant.”

Ben pulls his hands away from me at the reminder. “It’s not an unheard-of strategy, if old school.”

“And is that what you’d want?” I don’t even know what I’m asking. The panic spreading through my veins attests that I’m having issues with the concept, so why even ask him?

“What I want matters very little,” he replies. “I’m only here temporarily. You and Stoneheart are the ones who will decide the best course of action.”

“I see,” I say.

His words are a slap, and I grit my teeth at the reminder that even though Ben feels like safety, he isn’t.