Solid Proof

*Rowan*

James sets the paperwork on the desk in front of me. “There it is.” He points at a number highlighted on the top patch and taps it a few times.
I look at it, bleary-eyed. It’s Friday, and after four nights of not getting much sleep thanks to the girl whose name is also written at the top of this sheet of paper, I can’t see all that well.
But then it comes into focus. 99.9 percent. I look up at James, and he nods.
I nod back. “Good. Then you were right.”
“Of course, I was right.” He’s leaning on my desk now, his knuckles white as he braces himself against the surface. “There’s no question she’s his daughter.”
“Excellent.” I reach for the telephone, thinking I may as well get this over with now.
James places a hand on top of the receiver, holding it down so I can’t easily lift it. “What are you doing?”
“Calling him,” I say, looking from his hazel eyes to his hand and back again, implying he’d better fucking let go.
“Not now,” he says, shaking his head. “You have to wait until after her birthday.”
“I don’t have to fucking do anything.” I look at his hand again. It doesn’t budge.
“Alpha, we said we’d wait, remember? Her party is tonight. What if he wants her right away?” James has a pleading tone in his voice that makes me want to let my claws fly free and rip his hand off the phone.
“If he wants to trade right away, that’s a good thing,” I remind him. “I know what we said, James, but she’s not the most important part of this equation. Mara is.” My gaze shifts to the photo that sits next to my desk phone. “Now, move your fucking hand.”
“But–” he begins again, but a low rumbling growl in the back of my throat has him doing what I said. He continues in earnest. “Her birthday party is tonight. The staff is very excited about it. How long has it been since we had any sort of celebration in the house?”
I don’t want to think about answering that question. I already know the answer. It was the night before the war broke out. Before my father was murdered. Before Mara was taken.
It had been her birthday.
If I’m honest with myself, I do feel bad for the staff that their party might be interrupted, but I know King Solomon well enough to understand that he’s not going to bite right away anyway. “Get out of my office, James.”
He sighs and glowers at me. “Fine but if you have to call the party off, you’re the one who has to tell everyone.’
“Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Office.”
He’s still glaring at me as he turns to march out.
“And nice work on this,” I shout after him.
He slams the door. Hard.
I almost chuckle, but then, I remember exactly what it is I’m doing. Who it is I’m trading, and a wave of apprehension almost slows me from lifting the receiver. That’s stupid, though. It doesn’t matter. I have to put my kingdom first, and getting Mara back is essential to my kingdom.
I pick up the phone and press one of the buttons that immediately dials a number. The phone rings a few times before an older female says, “He’s not taking phone calls today, Alpha King Moonstryker.”
I narrow my eyes. “He will want to hear what I have to say, Marigold.”
“The princess is fine, and he’s not interested in any coal mines or cases of gemstones.”
“Tell him I have something that should be even more precious than that to him,” I begin. “Tell him I have a slice of his own flesh and blood. Does he remember the party at the Cavanaugh house eighteen years ago? Does he remember the young woman he took to a hotel? Does he remember not using protection?”
“Alpha King Moon–”
“Tell that fucking bastard I have his daughter, and he has one week to negotiate a trade for Princess Mara, or else I will spill her blood all over the fucking ground and place her head on a pole so high he’ll be able to see it from his fucking bedroom window!” I slam the phone down so hard it cracks. Thankfully, it’s not broken. I do expect it to ring in the next few moments, once Marigold, that old bitch, relays the message to her boss.
I take a deep breath and crack my knuckles. An image of Hezzlie’s head on a pike comes to mind, but I push it away. Could I ever really do that? I don’t know. But once I’ve made a threat, it’s important to follow through.
It’s not even five minutes later when my phone rings. The lights tell me it’s him on his direct line. I pick up the receiver. “Darksky?”
“Moonstryker.”
A heavy silence settles between us as I picture his face and want to drag my claws from his eyebrows to his bottom lip, ripping the flesh clean away and leaving nothing but bone.
I imagine he feels the same way about me.
“What is this nonsense about me having a daughter?”
A smile pulls my lips away from my teeth. “That’s right. You probably don’t even remember her mother, but I sent you pictures I’d obtained from the hotel a few months back. Do you remember?”
“I remember getting some ridiculous photographs in the mail from you, but I didn’t look at them,” he says, trying to sound nonchalant. “I never look at anything you send. I do enjoy burning the letters to Mara, though. It’s a pity she thinks you’ve all forgotten she exists.”
I fight the urge to growl and remind myself he’s trying to make me angry. “You have a fucking daughter. She looks a lot like you.” Thankfully, that part is not true.
“There’s no way in hell I have a daughter.” He sounds so fucking cocky. “And if I did, she’d mean nothing to me anyway.”
“All right then. I’ll just go ahead and execute this little bitch then. Although, you might want to take a look at this DNA test.”
“DNA test? How the fuck could you run a DNA test? You’d need a sample from me!”
Again, I’m smiling. “You doubt I could get that? Please, Solomon, I’m more powerful than you think.”
He says nothing for a minute then blurts, “Send it over. And a picture of the girl.”
I hang up without saying another word and lean back in my chair, glad that I’ve finally gotten under his skin. Will he agree to trade me for a bastard child he doesn’t even need? I have no idea. But I have something that rightfully belongs to him now, and I can’t imagine he’d just let that go.
I hear the tinkle of music in the distance, like a band playing somewhere on the first floor. My superior Alpha hearing clues me in, so I freeze for a moment, trying to figure out what it is.
Then I realize it’s probably the band getting ready for the fucking birthday party. I check the time. They have a few hours. Well, at least the staff will still get that.
Through the mind-link, I tell James to send Darksky a copy of the DNA test and the picture from Hezzlie’s file at Peripheral. I saw it yesterday, and it looks atrocious. He needs to think we are torturing her.
“Instead of throwing her a Goddess damn party,” I mumble, shaking my head.
Soon enough this will all be over. Hezzlie will be out of my life forever, and we’ll have Mara back. I look at her picture and allow myself to smile, remembering how much she loved a party. I should go, not because I want to dance with my mate, but because Mara would want me to.
Pushing up from my chair, I head to my room to get ready hoping things go smoothly, but somehow I don’t think they will.