“You know the details of every treaty negotiated by the council since you had your first Shift.”

“So what?” I tossed my hands into the air in exasperation. “What’s the point?”

But understanding came even as I asked, and his next words only confirmed it for that last, stubborn part of my brain.

Marc stood straighter, barely pausing this time when his ful weight hit his injured ankle. “Those are the things you’d have to know to lead a Pride. Your father doesn’t just want you to marry the next Alpha, Faythe. He wants you to be the next Alpha. To succeed him.” He searched my eyes, trying to gauge my reaction.

It struck me all at once, as if hearing it spel ed out in smal words made it real.

I’ll be damned. Daddy wasn’t teaching me to be independent. After al , how would that benefit the Pride? He was teaching me to be responsible.

Stil staring at Marc, I sat down on the bed—not because I wanted to, but because my legs refused to support me any longer. Numb with shock, I let my gaze drift down from his face to the Berber carpet. I studied the familiar design, tracing the overlapping diamonds one at a time, as if the answers to every question floating around in my head must lie hidden somewhere within the pattern. But if they did, I couldn’t find them.

“All this time, I thought you understood,” Marc whispered. I glanced up to find him staring at me with wide eyes, the surprise in his expression bordering on disbelief. “I thought you knew what he wanted and were refusing on general principle. I can’t believe you never realized.”

“Yeah. Me neither.” I barely recognized my own voice. I sounded dazed, or maybe drugged. But then a deeper understanding hit me like a slap in the face.

Everything he’d said was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Not by a long shot.

My eyes returned to him slowly. “You have al the same qualifications, Marc.”

The stunned quality in my voice had been replaced by an unsettling calm, and as I watched, his face flushed. “You know everything I know, and you already have the experience.”

Yet without me, he would never be Alpha. And we both knew it.

Marc studied the collection of CDs lined up next to my stereo. “My training as an enforcer was very thorough, and my areas of study often overlapped yours.” He was hedging, covering up the truth with a thick layer of bullshit.

“How long?”

He met my eyes, his own carefully blank. “How long what?”

“How long has Daddy been grooming you? How old was I when he chose you for me? Eight? Ten?”

He had the decency to blush. “He didn’t choose me, Faythe. You did.”

I considered reminding him about a woman’s prerogative to change her mind, but didn’t think it would help. “I’m not an idiot, Marc. Daddy picked my boyfriend to be his top enforcer, and I’m supposed to believe that’s just a coincidence?” I heard my voice rise in pitch but couldn’t seem to stop it. “He wasn’t training you to defend the boundaries. He was preparing you to take over for him as Alpha.”

“No.” His denial was earnest and simple. “I’ve been trained to help and support you. To be your top enforcer, like I am for Greg.”

But I couldn’t believe it. Of course, that’s what Marc would say. He’d say anything to get us back together, and so would my father, but he had an ulterior motive.

I’d always known my father wanted me to marry Marc, but I’d assumed he was trying to make me happy, misguided though his efforts were. It had never occurred to me that because I was his daughter, Daddy was stuck with me. But he’d chosen Marc. My father wanted Marc as his heir, and the only way to accomplish that was through me.

Marc saw my thoughts on my face and shook his head at me slowly, as if I should have known better. “It wasn’t like that. You can’t train someone to be an Alpha. You know that.”

Of course I knew. You couldn’t teach a cat to utilize strengths and instincts he didn’t possess. But inherent talents could be molded if they were caught early enough, and that was exactly what Daddy had done with Marc.

An Alpha had to be fast, strong, and very good under pressure. He had to be able to make critical decisions quickly, with little information to go on. And most important, he had to have that indefinable something—akin to charisma, but infinitely stronger—which drew loyal tomcats to him and kept them true under even the worst circumstances.

Marc had al of that and more. He was decisive and evenhanded, but ruthless when he had to be. He’d been born to lead, and Daddy had guaranteed that his talents would never go unnoticed, especial y by me. He’d made sure that the man closest to me—the only eligible man in the house during my formative years—was one he approved of and had, in fact, handpicked.

Staring into those gold-flecked eyes, I realized that my father had steered me toward Marc not to make either of us happy, but for the good of the Pride. Because everything Daddy did was for the good of the Pride, even if it wasn’t good for any one individual. Including me.

“You know he set us up,” I whispered, anger lending a bitter taste to my words. “You know neither of us ever real y had a choice.”

Marc frowned, never taking his eyes from mine. “I had a choice, Faythe, and I made it years ago. I told you I’d never change my mind, and I haven’t. You’re the one who left.”

He had that right. I’d left, and spoiled al of my father’s careful planning. After al , even the best Alpha male was no good without a mate.