10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Esme was restless, and I was eager to get us back on an even keel. Run? I suggested.

Yes, she agreed, relief colouring her voice in my head.

‘Esme and I are going for a run,' I announced to Greg and Jacob.

‘On mansion grounds?' Greg checked. He'd learned not to assume things of me because sometimes I sneaked off. He didn't love it when I did that, and I was trying to learn to be better about telling him what I was doing, but sometimes the constant guards were stifling, more so now than ever. Greg would give me space to run but he'd make sure another wolf was following me at a discreet distance. Usually it was Liam.

‘Yes,' I promised. The mansion grounds were rather limited in comparison to Black Park, and there were no deer to sink our teeth into, but it was the run Esme and I needed and we had land enough for that. Plus there was no travel time and we could find Ares to run with.

‘I will scout from the air first,' Jacob offered stiffly.

‘Great,' Greg said before I could refuse. Jacob nodded and walked out. ‘I like him.' Greg grinned at me.

I smiled. ‘You're just happy to have more lackeys.'

‘A man can't have too many lackeys,' he agreed. Now that we were alone, he pulled me into his arms and held me lightly. We stayed still, cuddling for a moment, and I revelled in his scent around me and the feeling of safety he brought. The tension I'd been holding in my body since the confrontation with the three stooges drained away.

I thought about Greg's jaunt to the roof with his corvid temptations. ‘Any sign that Operation Wing-It is working?' I teased.

‘I know you're being facetious, but that's an excellent name for the programme,' he said in all seriousness. ‘And yes, some success already. Two jackdaws took some of my nuts.'

‘Lucky them,' I snickered. I gave him one last squeeze and a quick kiss on the lips.

Surely Jacob was aerial by now. Impatience jittered through me as I started to remove my clothes and fold them neatly in a pile. When I was naked, I let the pleasurable shift roll over me. Suddenly I was on four legs and I slid into the passenger seat, letting Esme take the reins. After our small tiff, she needed to be reminded that I trusted her with all of my heart – and my body too.

‘Hey, Esme,' Greg said softly. ‘Red says hi.'

We wagged enthusiastically and Esme wished Red could come running, too. She went to Greg and nuzzled him while he stroked her firmly and gave her ears a scruffle. She let out a happy noise. After a few moments of fuss, she pulled back, looked at him enquiringly and whined.

Greg shook his head. ‘We're sorry, Esme,' he said, sounding exactly that. ‘Someone needs to man the desk. You go, though, and have fun. Run for us.'

Esme barked an affirmative and we trotted out to the front door of the house. Jacob had helpfully left it slightly ajar, so it took nothing more than a nudge to open it all the way and pelt out into freedom.

We paused in the fresh air. It was an unseasonably warm April day and the sun was beating down. Esme lifted our head up to peer at the sky and spotted Jacob easily. He was flying lazily and nothing in his body language suggested he had spotted a threat. We loped into a happy run, sprinting the short distance to where we scented Ares.

After Ares' almost-demise, David had taken it upon himself to build him a shelter. It wasn't much more than a lean-to at the moment, but he had plans to build a proper stable to show the unicorn he was loved. I thought it was adorable and had instantly released pack funds for the materials, though David was determined to build the thing with his own fair hands rather than have labourers on our land.

I'd seen more than a few female eyes light up with interest when they'd learned David could build, Daniella's included. A gardener wasn't the sexiest of roles, but a builder… There was something primevally sexy about the fact that a builder could provide shelter.

Esme used her nose to follow Ares' scent, but she needn't have bothered because he was lying against his lean-to as we'd expected. Though he'd largely recovered from the incident with Mrs Dawes, he wasn't completely back to normal and his energy levels were still a little on the low side. He was dozing in the dappled sunlight but he gave a snort and his red eyes flared open as he scented us.

He gave a happy whicker in greeting. I tentatively reached out with my magic to let him know how delighted I was to see him, and his warm affection rushed up and swamped me. If I'd been on two legs my eyes would have welled, but Esme was made of sterner stuff. Even so, she stepped closer to nuzzle him.

Now we were connected, Ares sent me an image. On the other side of the lean-to was something strange; it had appeared in the night while he was sleeping. Esme and I scooted cautiously around to see what had caught his eye. An envelope had been pinned to the wooden wall of the shelter.

Esme sniffed at the paper, trying to detect any useful scents. It smelled of the candles that had been burning in Mark Oates' room and at the black tourney. We sneezed, our nose full of an acrid scent that we couldn't un-smell even if we tried. Someone had placed the envelope here and gone to great lengths to cover their identity, including dousing the letter in a potion that was designed solely to block werewolf noses. Uneasiness tore through me: anyone who would go to such lengths was up to no good.

We sneezed again. Esme wanted to rip the thing down, but cooler minds prevailed and she let us shift onto two legs. I reached with steady hands towards a letter, addressed: Queen Lucy .

I opened it cautiously. Was it from the killer? I kind of hoped so because I could only handle one nefarious prick at a time.

Dear Queen Lucy

Congratulations on potentially attaining the role of the leader of the British werewolves. We have watched your meteoric rise to success with interest. No doubt you will appease the seat of power and shortly be formally recognised.

We are a collective of enterprising individuals who work together to enhance our wealth and standing in the Other realm. There are some amongst us that think you would be an asset and, as such, you are cordially invited to join our organisation. If you would like to accept it, display a single red rose on your pack common-room fireplace within the next twelve hours.

Know that once refused, an invitation will not be extended again.

And Lucy – if you're not with us, you're against us. Choose wisely.

The Domini.

The Domini? Bloody hell. It looked like they weren't quite the stuff of children's tales that Harden had thought. I felt a chill. They'd planted this right by Ares while he slept and they could easily have hurt him.

I re-read the letter, trying to calm my brain and digest the contents. It was an invitation and a threat; no wonder Ramsay had killed himself rather than face the judgement of such an organisation if they felt ballsy enough to threaten me on my own land.

Their shitty threat wasn't even implied, it was being sledgehammered into my face. It was noteworthy, too, that my title had been dropped in the body of the letter; for all the flattery in the first paragraph, the Domini – whoever they were – didn't truly accept my regency. Frankly, I could understand that: I still didn't quite know how I'd wrangled the title, or how the hell I was to ‘appease' the seat of power, whatever that meant. I'd been avoiding hard conversations with the Council – heck, I'd been avoiding the Council full stop.

We have no need of anyone other than pack, Esme sniffed.

Indeed, I agreed. For me the more important thing was that I wouldn't be part of any organisation where an offer to become a member came with a threat. I tacked the letter back where I'd found it; I'd pick it up again later, but for now I needed to run and to think.

Because worst of all, if I was to display a red rose into the pack common room to indicate my allegiance then we must have a Domini spy in our midst to see it.