The sun set on the fifty-third day with even less drama. In the interim, I slid into a new life as a guest in Orion’s pack, trying to ignore the way I didn’t quite fit in whenever my host wasn’t present. He often wasn’t, too busy after his extensive absence to spend much time with me. No wonder I ended up waking far too early on the fifty-fourth day, tossing and turning until I forced myself out of a bed that was perfectly soft and yet still unbearably strange.
Back in Julius’s mansion, insomnia had an easy fix. I would slip into Celeste’s room and she would half-waken, pull back the covers, then invite me to snuggle.
Even here, my sister was only a single door away from me. I hovered outside that barrier, listening to her breathing and remembering how strained things had become between us. She’d turned silent the previous afternoon when Finnegan was mentioned, a sadness hovering over her that had never been present previously.
My fingers closed around the doorknob. But I couldn’t turn it. Instead, I left her room behind and padded out onto the terrace that overlooked the canyon, peering straight up until the waning moon came into view.
Sleep had been elusive lately, so I’d been watching the moon a lot. Had been noticing how it reached its zenith an hour later every day. Something about that niggled at me. Something important…
But my brain was foggy from lack of sleep and the air was chilly. I shifted into my wolf fur then laid my chin on my paws. And that way, finally, I slept.
It wasn’t until late morning when Orion tapped on the frame of the door I’d left open despite the already oppressive heat. I was sweeping an already pristine floor to take my mind off the additional ink I’d lost overnight, but the busywork hadn’t been particularly effective. Because as Orion entered, my gaze immediately flew to the spot on his forearm that matched the reddened patch on mine.
“There’s still ink,” he assured me, although his black swirls were so few as to be almost invisible, the skin beside them clearly irritated.
So was Orion. He didn’t suggest we sit together on the window seat that looked out over the canyon floor the way he had when he found a spare quarter hour to share with me yesterday. Instead, he paced back and forth across the room, exuding an alpha musk that had seldom before overcome his signature scent of cactus flowers.
“There’s a problem,” I guessed. “No luck figuring out a place to meet Gabi?”
We had several hours left before my ex-mentor’s arrival, which meant she and, hopefully, Maya were currently in transit. The tracking app I’d planted on Gabi supported that supposition, and the timeline gave us a good bit of leeway. Gabi wouldn’t expect more information about a precise meeting spot until she crossed the border into Arizona.
Between now and then there was the not-so-minor issue of finding Finnegan to deal with, but Donovan and Orion seemed to have a plan for that. So I wasn’t surprised Orion shook his head in response to my question now.
I was more surprised by how agitated he seemed, continuing to cross and recross the living room, long strides eating up the small space far too quickly. When he spoke, his voice was deep and growly.
“Bellwether is here.”
“Here on the edge of your territory?”
Orion shook his head. “Here in the canyon.”
I flinched. The exact location of this hidden pack central was supposed to be unknown to anyone outside Orion’s clan and Prince’s. It was considered a safe haven for a pack in transition.
I’d come to my feet and was patting down spots where I’d concealed weapons when Orion halted me. “It’s not an invasion,” he rumbled. “He asked to speak with you.”
Chapter 19
The alpha who’d demanded I accept punishment days ago had dropped by for a simple social call? Unlikely.
Still, I took the time to turn my head upside down and shake my hair into the tousled curls I knew made me appear youthful and innocent, peering between strands at Orion as he continued to pace in silence. I would have changed my clothes to add to the illusion, but there was a sweet spot to keeping an uninvited guest waiting. I didn’t want to draw out the suspense too long.
“I’ll meet with Chief Bellwether alone,” I started, only to be interrupted by a single-word from Orion:
“No.”
“We need to figure out what he really wants,” I countered.
“To harm you.”
“Doubtful.” I shouldn’t have needed to explain my reasoning, but Orion wasn’t himself at the moment. So I broke my thought processes down for him. “Chief Bellwether went to all the trouble of setting up a blood-magic ceremony rather than killing his predecessor the easy way. He’s smart and he’s power hungry. Now he’s fixating on me. It’ll be easier to discover why without you in the room.”
Orion nodded. “Understood. I’ll wait outside the door.”
“Where he’ll smell you.” As I spoke, I opened a drawer and pulled out the shifter-friendly perfume I’d stashed for special occasions. Unlike the stuff humans usually wore, this was much subtler and also deeply effective. One spritz on the inside of my right wrist resulted in a strangled groan from Orion.
“You intend to walk in there like that?”
Up until this point, I’d given Orion benefit of the doubt. Vega had warned me that alphas had a hard time being rational about their mates, and while I wasn’t technically Orion’s mate I could understand that his wolf was the one making decisions when it came to my safety.
Still, it was one thing to stop another alpha from manhandling me. It was another thing to second guess the tools I chose to use.
No wonder I found myself snapping: “Are you policing my body?”
The air between us turned heavy with unspoken retorts. Orion opened his mouth then closed it again. As if his wolf was trying to speak while his human side fought against the intrusion.
Then, finally, he scraped one hand across his jaw and answered. “I apologize. That came out wrong.” The subsequent words seemed intended more for his own benefit than for mine. “The room I put Bellwether in has no windows and the hallway ends in a locked door. He can’t bring in reinforcements and he can’t get out without us knowing. Just…please…be careful.”
Gabi’s analyses of alpha werewolves thrummed through my memory. How they were coarsely overbearing. How they reacted without thinking.
I’d learned to disagree with many of my ex-mentor’s assertions. But this time her warnings seemed relevant.
No wonder my reply was clipped. “Of course.”
I hadn’t taken the time to peer at Chief Bellwether extensively when I had lupine jaws clamped around his throat. So now I stopped just inside the door of the room he’d been shown to and looked him over more thoroughly.
The middle-aged man wasn’t sitting even though the space boasted three easy chairs encircling a coffee table upon which someone had left a pitcher of lemonade, three glasses, and an apparently untouched platter of cookies. Instead, he stood with arms crossed, salt and pepper hair cropped close to his head. His shirt collar had one more button undone than I would have expected and…was that a multi-flower boutonniere pinned to his breast pocket?
He broke the silence by letting my name roll across his tongue like fine wine he’d been savoring. “Elspeth.”
