Anson regarded her with a bored expression, as if her question wasn’t worth answering. The male narrator talked about losses being less than expected, and part of me was cold and curious. Another part was thick with denial. In the background, wafting smoke billowed from a burning building, and what might have been a funeral raft, bright with flames and floating in the center of Azul’s lake.
My throat tightened, but I was grateful for the video—the validation of what I’d seen through Amal’s eyes when she destroyed Azul.
In that memory, I envisioned Amal by the café… then walking up the steps to the archive… pausing before she crushed those steps into pieces. Shattered the glass. Charred the wood.
Fallon’s hand fisted on the table. She was the Alpha—one of three—but the pack members living in Azul were as much her responsibility as they were Grayson’s. Mace’s. Her job was to protect them. Make sure disasters like Amal never happened.
Worse, Anson had kept information—like this video—from her until now. Wolf arrogance? Animosity from the Carmag? Or because she’d needed to heal before Anson entangled her in the disaster?
“We swept the area again yesterday,” Elijah said. “This is an updated list.”
He pushed several sheets of paper toward Fallon. She picked them up, glanced at the names. Those lost in the fighting, the wounded who had since died. Too many, although the three pages of known survivors were more encouraging. The refugees in Westvale. The men and women who opted for Sentinel Falls, or had family in the other settlements.
Not every Sentinel Falls wolf fit in with the Carmag. Maybe there was a reason.
Elijah gestured toward the video images. “The burning raft—creatures. Nothing left for you to do.”
The funeral rite had been more respectful, he added. Grayson and Mace had arrived to officiate before leaving again. The cost of war. He shrugged. I wasn’t sure if he meant the casualties, or the lack of time to grieve properly.
I jerked my gaze back to Anson. “Let me go to Azul.” Because if I was sure of one thing, it was that my weapons were in Azul. Made by Mace, hidden in the armory, and I’d need them if I was going to fight.
“No.” Anson was full-on alpha with that tone.
It took effort not to flare at him. “Why?”
“You are—”
“The catalyst?”
“No.” He leaned back so hard his chair creaked. “The target. You’re safe here.”
“And under your protection.”
“Noa.” Fallon shook her head, but I ignored her.
“I can stop them—but I can’t fight if I’m locked up here.”
“It’s too fecking dangerous!”
Anson glared, and I wondered if we both weren’t too stubborn. We had a common enemy but nurtured an animosity because I’d wanted to rescue a faille and Grayson had wanted to keep the mission secret. And now Anson was bearing the brunt of the refugees because Amal had come after me—or after the book that I had.
“You’re still recovering,” Fallon cautioned.
My gaze lingered on her cane, leaning against the table, before I said, “So are you, but you’re not sitting on the sidelines.”
She flashed enough canine to tell me she wasn’t in her big sister role. Pure alpha warning crossed her face. I slouched back into my chair and stared down at my tangled hands. The knuckles were whitening.
I wondered if my faille energy was flashing like a strobe light because that’s what it felt like in my head. I forced my fingers to relax. Willed my heartbeat to slow. Elijah Stone was watching with a calm that had Fallon snapping her gaze toward him. Anson’s posture relaxed. His black shirt emphasized physical strength with a somber decorum, and I shook my head, nervous now, somewhat ashamed of my outburst.
“I’m sorry.” The words were genuine, but too casual; the Alpha of Carmag took no offense. “It’s not in me to sit around and do nothing,” I added.
“No, you’d rather burn things down,” Elijah sneered.
Anson ignored his advisor’s rudeness, choosing instead to flick his finger against a report open on the table. “New details have come to light.”
He glanced toward the far end of the table. The woman sitting there hadn’t said a word. Her silence was unnerving.
“Vampires came to the Refuge,” he said. “Asked for a meeting. They weren’t happy about losing their people during your escape.”
