Lion's Share
Page 41
“Abby?”
“Your sister just asked me to be her maid of honor. Then she offered to return the favor. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that technically, she’d be a matron of honor.”
Jace snorted. Then he sat next to me and took my hands. “Hey, I need you to understand something.”
I nodded, unexpectedly nervous.
“What happened between us last night—what I’d like to continue to happen between us—has nothing to do with your father, or your birth Pride, or me losing my position here. This is about nothing and no one but the two of us.” He slid one hand into my hair, cradling the back of my jaw in a gesture that made me want to crawl all over him. “I want you to know, especially after what happened with Brian, that I’m not using you. I’m not going to pressure you into any kind of commitment, and I have no intention of taking over your father’s territory.”
“You don’t?” My chest ached, and I wasn’t sure why. He was trying to reassure me, yet for some reason, I felt almost rejected. “Do you not want the East Coast Pride?”
He shook his head, but not in answer to my question. “That’s not what I’m saying—I’ve never even really thought about it. What I’m saying is that I’ve known all along that I’d be losing my position here, and I’m not counting on you or your father to give me somewhere to go. I’ve worked very hard to make sure I’m not dependent upon anyone for that.”
“You have?” I felt like I was missing something. “What’s your plan, Jace?”
Instead of answering, he held my gaze for a moment, waiting for me to puzzle it out on my own.
“Oh, shit…” I covered my mouth with both hands, then spoke through them. “You’re going to the Lion’s Den!”
And just like that, I understood his involvement in the wildcat resolution. Jace wasn’t just backing the motion in the Council; he and Faythe were the ones who’d proposed it, and the idea had probably been his originally. His intent hadn’t just been to establish a good relationship between Pride cats and strays—he’d actually been creating a future home for himself.
As an Alpha who’d already been leading a Pride for years, Jace couldn’t possibly serve beneath another tom in another territory. Even if one of the other Alphas wanted him—and none would; they would all subconsciously recognize him as a threat—his own instincts would keep him from peacefully submitting to another tom’s will.
Faythe and Marc’s connection to the project was obvious. Genetically, Marc was a stray. What I hadn’t realized was that Jace thought of himself as a stray too, because that’s practically what he would become when Melody claimed her territory. With Isaac.
But Jace knew that if strays were allowed to form their own officially recognized Prides, he would still have a legitimate role to play when he had to leave the Appalachian Territory. His plan was altruistic, and radical, and brilliant.
His plan was breaking my heart.
“You’re going to leave.” We’d just connected. He couldn’t leave.
He exhaled deeply. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“You could—” I said, but Jace cut me off with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
“Abby, your dad’s not ready to retire. He was expecting you to wind up with an inexperienced potential Alpha. Someone he could spend the next few years training to take over. That’s not me. I can’t serve under him, and he’s not ready to step down.”
“You don’t know that.”
He took my hand. “I do. Think about the big picture. If your father steps down, the council will have to elect a new chair. Your dad wouldn’t just be prematurely losing control of his own Pride; he’d be handing leadership of the council over to someone else, and that could very well put the—”
“Okay, but Isaac’s not ready to step up yet. I think he does have Alpha potential—”
“That much is crystal clear,” Jace agreed.
“—but he won’t be ready for years.”
“At least a couple, probably. But Melody doesn’t want me here. And if I could learn on the job, so can Isaac.”
“He could, but why should he, when you could train him? He’s about to get married. And he’s going to have a baby soon. That’s a lot for any man to take on at once, and you know damn well that the Pride will be better off if you stay on, at least until he’s truly ready to take over.”
Jace shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s up to Melody.”
“And Isaac,” I insisted. “If he’s going to be the new Alpha, he should get a vote, and I know he’ll want to do what’s best for the Pride.”
Jace nodded. “Like I said, I suspect I have at least two years left here.”
“And I’ll be here with you.” We could figure out the rest then. Assuming we were still together, and I couldn’t imagine that not being the case. I knew enough about what didn’t feel right to recognize what did feel right with Jace.
Though there were still things I couldn’t tell him.
“Abby…”
“No. I’ve made up my mind.” I crossed my arms over my chest, shutting down whatever argument he’d been about to make. “As long as you’re here, I will be too. We’ll have plenty of time to sort out the rest. This is just the beginning, Jace.” I took his hand, and his fingers wove between mine. “We don’t have to figure it all out right this second.”
“Speaking of beginnings, since Melody knows about us, there’s a good chance every other shifter in the country will know in a couple of hours. Especially since making it sound like I broke up you and Brian will take some of the focus off of her premarital pregnancy. Don’t you think your parents should hear about us from you first?”
“I guess.” I was assuming the fact that I hadn’t already heard from them meant that Brian hadn’t yet told his parents, who would definitely have called mine. “Any particular way you want me to spin this?”
Jace shook his head. “It’s your news. Tell them whatever you’re comfortable with. As long as it’s true.” He stood when I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
While he went downstairs to round everyone up for the mission, I autodialed my parents’ home number. But what Jace and I had both failed to realize was that if you call your parents before breakfast, they will assume someone has died.
“Your sister just asked me to be her maid of honor. Then she offered to return the favor. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that technically, she’d be a matron of honor.”
Jace snorted. Then he sat next to me and took my hands. “Hey, I need you to understand something.”
I nodded, unexpectedly nervous.
“What happened between us last night—what I’d like to continue to happen between us—has nothing to do with your father, or your birth Pride, or me losing my position here. This is about nothing and no one but the two of us.” He slid one hand into my hair, cradling the back of my jaw in a gesture that made me want to crawl all over him. “I want you to know, especially after what happened with Brian, that I’m not using you. I’m not going to pressure you into any kind of commitment, and I have no intention of taking over your father’s territory.”
“You don’t?” My chest ached, and I wasn’t sure why. He was trying to reassure me, yet for some reason, I felt almost rejected. “Do you not want the East Coast Pride?”
He shook his head, but not in answer to my question. “That’s not what I’m saying—I’ve never even really thought about it. What I’m saying is that I’ve known all along that I’d be losing my position here, and I’m not counting on you or your father to give me somewhere to go. I’ve worked very hard to make sure I’m not dependent upon anyone for that.”
“You have?” I felt like I was missing something. “What’s your plan, Jace?”
Instead of answering, he held my gaze for a moment, waiting for me to puzzle it out on my own.
“Oh, shit…” I covered my mouth with both hands, then spoke through them. “You’re going to the Lion’s Den!”
And just like that, I understood his involvement in the wildcat resolution. Jace wasn’t just backing the motion in the Council; he and Faythe were the ones who’d proposed it, and the idea had probably been his originally. His intent hadn’t just been to establish a good relationship between Pride cats and strays—he’d actually been creating a future home for himself.
As an Alpha who’d already been leading a Pride for years, Jace couldn’t possibly serve beneath another tom in another territory. Even if one of the other Alphas wanted him—and none would; they would all subconsciously recognize him as a threat—his own instincts would keep him from peacefully submitting to another tom’s will.
Faythe and Marc’s connection to the project was obvious. Genetically, Marc was a stray. What I hadn’t realized was that Jace thought of himself as a stray too, because that’s practically what he would become when Melody claimed her territory. With Isaac.
But Jace knew that if strays were allowed to form their own officially recognized Prides, he would still have a legitimate role to play when he had to leave the Appalachian Territory. His plan was altruistic, and radical, and brilliant.
His plan was breaking my heart.
“You’re going to leave.” We’d just connected. He couldn’t leave.
He exhaled deeply. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“You could—” I said, but Jace cut me off with a gentle squeeze of my hand.
“Abby, your dad’s not ready to retire. He was expecting you to wind up with an inexperienced potential Alpha. Someone he could spend the next few years training to take over. That’s not me. I can’t serve under him, and he’s not ready to step down.”
“You don’t know that.”
He took my hand. “I do. Think about the big picture. If your father steps down, the council will have to elect a new chair. Your dad wouldn’t just be prematurely losing control of his own Pride; he’d be handing leadership of the council over to someone else, and that could very well put the—”
“Okay, but Isaac’s not ready to step up yet. I think he does have Alpha potential—”
“That much is crystal clear,” Jace agreed.
“—but he won’t be ready for years.”
“At least a couple, probably. But Melody doesn’t want me here. And if I could learn on the job, so can Isaac.”
“He could, but why should he, when you could train him? He’s about to get married. And he’s going to have a baby soon. That’s a lot for any man to take on at once, and you know damn well that the Pride will be better off if you stay on, at least until he’s truly ready to take over.”
Jace shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s up to Melody.”
“And Isaac,” I insisted. “If he’s going to be the new Alpha, he should get a vote, and I know he’ll want to do what’s best for the Pride.”
Jace nodded. “Like I said, I suspect I have at least two years left here.”
“And I’ll be here with you.” We could figure out the rest then. Assuming we were still together, and I couldn’t imagine that not being the case. I knew enough about what didn’t feel right to recognize what did feel right with Jace.
Though there were still things I couldn’t tell him.
“Abby…”
“No. I’ve made up my mind.” I crossed my arms over my chest, shutting down whatever argument he’d been about to make. “As long as you’re here, I will be too. We’ll have plenty of time to sort out the rest. This is just the beginning, Jace.” I took his hand, and his fingers wove between mine. “We don’t have to figure it all out right this second.”
“Speaking of beginnings, since Melody knows about us, there’s a good chance every other shifter in the country will know in a couple of hours. Especially since making it sound like I broke up you and Brian will take some of the focus off of her premarital pregnancy. Don’t you think your parents should hear about us from you first?”
“I guess.” I was assuming the fact that I hadn’t already heard from them meant that Brian hadn’t yet told his parents, who would definitely have called mine. “Any particular way you want me to spin this?”
Jace shook his head. “It’s your news. Tell them whatever you’re comfortable with. As long as it’s true.” He stood when I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. “I’ll give you some privacy.”
While he went downstairs to round everyone up for the mission, I autodialed my parents’ home number. But what Jace and I had both failed to realize was that if you call your parents before breakfast, they will assume someone has died.
