Page 88 of Queen of Diamonds

But this…?

I’d always been afraid of a scent match. I’d always known that however powerless I felt, it would be nothing in the face of fated mates. My independence was further stripped from me until I was left with no choices at all.

My family was careful who I was exposed to, hoping I’d match an ally that was appropriate.

I’d just turned eighteen, and I’d even held out the sad hope that my father would choose a pack for me before I matched one, so that my future wasn’t pre-ordained two fold. I don’t know why it was worse, but a political scent match gave validity to the control he already had.

This match, though, it was… unexpected.

I frowned.

Why was he here?

He must have known.

“Does your father—?” I began, but he cut me off.

“We’ve said nothing.”

“Then how did you know?”

He draped an elbow on the back of the bench, leaning back and fixing me with a curious gaze. “Three nights ago, my pack mate was sent to kill you.”

There was one long beat, and then I reacted on instinct, blade from my thigh in my fist. I caught his wrist with my other hand as he flinched, twisting it and keeping my way open. I ended up on top of him, my knife pressed to the left side of his neck, switching my grip from his hand to his hair and tugging his neck back.

“Why are you here?”

A rather unexpected smile crept onto his mouth, so beautiful it set my heart fluttering. “That’s up to you.”

I didn’t move.

There were two options with an enemy scent match.

Alliance or murder.

“If I was here to kill you, we wouldn’t be speaking,” he offered, like that made things better.

My eyes darted around the nearby hedges where my father’s guards usually lurked.

I saw no one.

“They won’t wake for a while,” Zed added.

I tensed as I felt the brush of his hands at my waist. My eyes darted between his, hormones surging.

“A prince for a princess?” Zed asked. “Maybe, one day, a king for a queen.”

That, I’d expected. He was suggesting flipping the script. Alliance from war. Scent-matched betrothals changed things.

“But only if she wants it.”

Those words drew me up. “If I… what?”

Was he messing with me?

“Unstack the odds,” he said. “I don’t want this to be about politics.”

I almost laughed. “Isn’t it?”

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