11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Even with the threat hanging over us, Esme and I both felt better for our run. We trotted into our office with Jacob next to us, the letter in our maw. It didn't taste of anything other than paper so we were confident – albeit not certain – that we weren't being poisoned. We tended to learn by doing, frequently asking for forgiveness rather than permission; it was our greatest strength and our greatest weakness.

Greg looked up as we came in but his smile faded as he saw the letter. Esme lifted our head, pointedly held it towards him and he took it. We shifted onto two legs and I dressed quickly and efficiently. Jacob didn't blush or avert his gaze at my nudity; he'd been raised pack.

Greg waited for me to dress before doing anything. He was still holding the letter. ‘Read it,' I instructed. He opened the damned thing and scanned it, his jaw working as his eyes passed over the threatening words .

‘What do you know about the Domini?' I asked. ‘Obviously they're more than a cautionary tale for naughty kids as Harden suggested.'

‘If they're real, then they're bad news,' Greg started.

‘I got that from the threat,' I said drily.

Greg grimaced at my flippancy. ‘The Anti-Crea has claimed they're associated with the Domini. I'd assumed that was bullshit, but in light of this and Ramsay's death maybe not.'

Jacob gave a low growl. The Anti-Crea was a human supremacy organisation that wanted to destroy – or at least control – the creature population of the Other realm. Anything that didn't need to go into the Common realm to recharge was deemed a ‘creature', and the creature side included the dryads, the dragons, the trolls, to name but a few. Until recently, the gargoyles had also been included on that list.

It was notable that the wizards took up the majority of the positions in the Connection due to their larger population size, but as a consequence, the oh-so-impartial Connection had definite human leanings.

Despite technically being on the right side of the Anti-Crea, I didn't have an iota of sympathy for their ideologies. Emory was a creature and he was one of the finest men I've ever met. I'd also met Mrs Dawes, who'd been on the human side of the divide – and she'd kidnapped children in a bid to steal their magic and extend her life. Evil didn't come neatly packaged in one gender, race or ethnicity, it mouldered through society dressed up as apathy and indifference.

‘Do we know anyone who is openly part of the Domini?' I asked.

Greg shook his head. ‘If it truly exists, it's a secret society. Think Illuminati – but worse. I've only heard whispers and rumours of their existence, which I'd discounted as tall tales.'

‘More secrecy,' I huffed. ‘Just what this realm needs. I bet they have a secret handshake too.' I sighed. ‘I suppose I should be impressed that they'd even let a woman join.'

‘By all accounts, they respect power and you have that – more than they know.'

I rubbed my forehead. ‘Obviously I'm not going to put the rose on the mantelpiece, but I guess we need to set up a camera to see who comes looking for one.'

Greg nodded. ‘I have a few cameras for remote monitoring. I'll set one up discreetly.'

‘I'll call a pack meeting,' I suggested. ‘Get everyone to come to the dining hall, have a meeting and do a buffet dinner. You can set up the camera while we're talking and eating in the dining hall. '

‘Good idea. I'll send a pack-wide text.'

‘And I'll watch the mantelpiece in the meantime,' Jacob suggested stiffly. ‘It is of more immediate concern than the roof.'

‘Agreed.' Greg grimaced; he really had a thing about the roof.

Jacob bobbed a half bow and walked out, turning his back on me as he went.

He trusts us, Esme said, sounding pleased.

Because he turned his back on us?

Yes.

She was chuffed with this development, but I was more concerned about the meeting I'd just called. What the heck was I going to say? And how was Finley going to feed them all at such short notice?

The dining hall was heaving. Finley had been baking up a storm ever since I'd informed him that we'd be holding a meeting at 7pm. He'd also ordered a tonne of pizzas; the aroma of tomato, cheese and oregano was permeating the room and making me salivate. I decided it would be best to make the announcement section of the meeting short because I wouldn't be the only one with my eyes on the food.

I took myself and my cup of tea to the centre of the room, where Greg had helpfully placed a small lectern, and stood behind it. With the addition of the members of the marauding Devon pack as well as the Council, the room was full and hot.

There was also a sense of uneasiness in the air: so many wolves should not gather in one place. I'd have to send the Devon wolves home sooner rather than later, but they needed their leader and I was their alpha. However, I couldn't be alpha of the Home Counties and the Devon pack and be in two places at the same time.

The answer struck me suddenly and clearly: I needed a steward, exactly like the Samuel line had installed here. I needed someone who could hold the Devon pack for me for now – but the question was, who?

Greg was the obvious choice, but selfishly I didn't want to send him down to the south of the country because it would inevitably lead to the end of our burgeoning romance. I knew myself well enough to accept that I couldn't cope with a long-distance relationship – but I also knew that by denying him the opportunity, I was withholding his chance to lead. I should at least offer him the option. I took a sip of my brew as I thought it through .

He won't go, Esme said confidently. He's your lobster.

Her observation made me spit my tea everywhere. I knew you were watching that episode of Friends with me!

She gave her paw a casual lick and didn't deign to answer.

Actually, lobsters are super-promiscuous and don't mate for life. They're horny buggers.

Wolves are better, she said with satisfaction. We mate for life. We should mate with Greg and Red.

Esme had pushed this agenda a time or two partly because once we were formally mated with Greg and his wolf, he couldn't challenge us for the alpha position. I thought it was a ridiculous proposition, and I wasn't being hurried into anything formal when Greg and I had only been together for a matter of a few weeks. I loved him – but I'd thought I'd loved James and he'd almost killed me. I had a live-and-learn ethos and I wasn't stumbling into mating – marrying – just anybody, no matter how much he made my stomach and other parts flutter.

I cleared my throat and focused on the room. To me, Greg and Jacob were conspicuous in their absence, but I trusted that it was so crowded that their absence wouldn't be noted by anyone else. Besides, I hadn't formally introduced Jacob to the pack yet, though Greg had sent a pack-wide text so no one would be alarmed when they suddenly saw a dark-winged dude floating around.

‘Thank you all for coming,' I said loudly. ‘I'm sure you will all have learned of the deaths of Scott Larsden and Nicholas Ramsay. I can confirm that Ramsay took his own life and no further individuals are being pursued in respect of that.'

No individuals, just a huge organisation. It wasn't a coincidence that Ramsay had pointed the finger at Domini and hours later we'd received a letter from that organisation. The Domini were wading hip-deep into werewolf matters and I would show them what an error of judgement that was.

‘Scott Larsden was killed on pack land and his killer is being sought. They will be found and brought to justice.' I let my gaze sweep around the room, lingering a heartbeat longer on Elena and Aitken. ‘In investigating his death, however, it has become clear that Larsden was embroiled with the black tourney.'

Noise burst through the room as everyone murmured at once. I looked at the Council members: Harden looked shocked, as did Walker. Aitken's face was deadpan, revealing nothing – which, in turn, revealed something. Had he been in on it with Larsden, or was he just in the know about Larsden's dark activities?

‘Silence!' I called.

Silence! Esme snapped out at the same time.

The room fell silent like a switch had been flipped. It was incredibly gratifying, but I didn't know whether it was because of my command or hers. I supposed it didn't really matter.

‘I will be conducting an investigation during the coming days, but in the meantime another area must be addressed. Noah Frank may have lost his wolf due to Roan's willing sacrifice to save his life, but he is pack and he is under my protection. If anyone harms him, I will take it as a personal insult.' I let my threat sit for a moment in the heavy silence and glared at Harry, Matt and Toby.

Noah shrank even further; he hated being the centre of attention. I hated that I'd made him feel uncomfortable in this dark time, but I cared more for his safety than his comfort. To take the sting out of my words, I smiled. ‘Now, I know the Devon pack are adjusting to life here, but you must all be eager to return home to your land and the remainder of the pack. Rest assured, I am in the process of making certain arrangements for that, but for now you will remain here and abide by my rule and law. '

‘As should all wolves,' said Harden loudly. He moved forward through the crowd to approach me and gave a low bow. ‘My Queen, with the deaths of Larsden and Ramsay coming on the heels of the loss of Ace Frost, the Council is not at full strength. Moreover, it is time for you to travel to the seat of power to take the Crown of Torr. Whilst you do so, the Council can discuss appointing the replacements for Frost, Larsen and Ramsay.'

I gave him a cool smile. ‘I will happily travel to the seat of power, but if I am to be Queen in more than name then I will appoint their replacements once I have the Crown of Torr. With the Council's advice, of course. It is notable that there are no females on the Council, something we will need to rectify.'

Harden's smile became distinctly strained. ‘The Council is usually formed of beta wolves, my Queen.'

‘I'm well aware of that,' I said drily. Appointing alphas to the Council would be a foolish decision; all the ones I'd ever met had egos as big as a dragon's dick so any meeting involving them was doomed to failure. Appointing betas, however, meant that they could retain their loyalty to their own pack whilst supposedly acting in the best interests of all werewolves. ‘I see no reason why a woman shouldn't be beta to a pack. '

‘They are simply not strong enough to win in a tourney,' Aitken said stiffly.

I raised an elegant eyebrow. ‘And yet here I sit, the proclaimed Queen of the English werewolves.' Of course, I hadn't technically fought in a tourney because I'd mercy-killed Lord Samuel and inherited his pack, but breaking the curse had been all my doing. And Amber's, and my grandfather Alessandro's; okay, it had been a team effort, but they didn't need to know that.

‘Indeed,' Aitken said. ‘But though you are proclaimed Queen, your coronation will not take place until the crown has been attained. As such, we invite you to travel post haste to the seat of power at Fellworth House.'

‘And where is Fellworth House?'

Aitken's smile was shark-like. ‘Why, on my lands, my Queen. The Staffordshire pack would be honoured to host you.'

My stomach sank. Dammit, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. They'd used my own meeting to pin me down and force me to agree to go to the damned seat of power – whatever and wherever it was – and who knew what awaited me there? Nothing pleasant, I was sure.

Just wonderful.

I plastered a smile on my face and hoped that it hid the hammering of my heart. ‘That would be lovely,' I said calmly, as if I were not fully aware that I had just agreed to leave my home to stroll directly into the lion's den whilst smelling like a gazelle.