A mate bond doesn't lie.
My gaze drifts to my hand, turning it palm up. Lyre had spouted off some strange explanation of energy transfer, saying I'd somehow siphoned Grace's power. Such a bond is unheard of; there is nothing like it in our history.
We can strengthen our mate. Protect them. But to accidentally harm them? To drain them of their strength? Impossible.
Either Lyre's wrong, or…
No matter. I'll figure it out. I always do.
Are you listening to yourself?Fenris growls, his tail smacking against the back of his chair.Get your head out of your ass.
I narrow my eyes at him. It's a good thing others can't hear how disrespectful the Lycan King's wolf can be.Mind your tongue.
If I could break our pact myself, I would. You're going to destroy her.
His suggestion is so outrageous I nearly laugh.Calm down. Have a little more faith in our mate.
In Grace?Fenris snaps his teeth again, and Elizabeth flinches in the driver's seat.I have plenty of faith in Grace. It's you I don't trust.
The clarity my mate has gifted me fades as rage simmers just under my skin.Enough.
The van slows, pulling into a massive parking structure, attached to another building. This must be the venue Elizabeth spoke of so charmingly.
Through tall windows, I glimpse chandeliers suspended from exposed beam ceilings.
Elizabeth shifts the vehicle into park. "We've arrived, High Alpha."
I nod curtly, but my focus remains on Fenris. The fury coiling in my body is enticing, beckoning me further, but I dig in my heels.
Grace likes Fenris.
Do you truly believe I would hurt her?I ask, quieter this time.
His ears flatten.Not intentionally.There's a weight to his words, and a reluctance in the part of our soul stitching us together.But your intentions aren't the problem. It's your inability to see past your arrogance and see things as Grace does.
My fingers tap against my knee again. The arrogance of a Lycan King has always been considered a strength. Not a weakness. Has Fenris gone soft?
Idiot.
Jack-Eye opens the passenger door, creating a welcome diversion. "Shall we, High Alpha?"
Behave yourself,I warn Fenris, deciding to shelve this conversation until later.
Fenris huffs, a deep rumble in his chest as he slinks out of the van behind me. His massive body brushes against my leg—not quite submission, but not outright defiance either.I'll behave better than you deserve.
The night air smells strange here, almost itchy to my nose, but I can't pinpoint anything to cause it.
Jack-Eye's somehow procured a charcoal suit, fitting him perfectly despite his broad shoulders and well above-average height. If I didn't know better, I would think he brought it with him. Even his shoes are polished.
"High Alpha," he says, looking me over, "are you sure you don't want a suit?"
"No."
The tactical gear I'm wearing feels right against my skin—dark pants with reinforced knees, a fitted shirt allowing full range of motion, and boots capable of handling a chase through rough terrain. It's part of the standard gear we keep stashed on long trips, and far more comfortable than a restrictive suit.
I have no need to impress a pack as small as Fiddleback. I don't need a suit to remind these wolves who I am.
Andrew and Thom come to stand behind me, both reeking of anxiety. Thom's has the bitter edge of fear, but Andrew's is a little sharper. My eyes narrow at the Blue Mountain pup.
