“We’re preserving over 40% of the land,” Percy counters.
“The 40% that’s too steep to build on anyway,” I fire back. “What about the old-growth cedar groves along the eastern ridge? Those trees are over 300 years old and provide critical nesting habitat for the endangered spotted owl. Your plans run a road right through them. And the wetland system at the base of the valley? It filters groundwater for the entire watershed. Your golf course will require chemical treatments that’ll destroy the natural filtration and leach into the creek—which, by the way, is one of the last natural breeding grounds for the silver-backed trout.”
I gesture emphatically at their model. “This isn’t just about wolves. It’s about an entire ecosystem that took centuries to establish and will be gone forever in a matter of months if your bulldozers have their way.”
Hamilton steps forward, his massive frame looming. “Ms. Wolfhart, let’s cut to the chase. Wolfstone is happening. The land has been purchased, permits secured, and construction begins next month. Your little protests and community forums are charming, but ultimately futile.”
The dismissive tone in his voice makes something primitive stir inside me. I take a step closer, invading his personal space.
“Nothing is happening until the environmental impact assessment is complete,” I growl. “And your current plans will never pass, mister.”
“The assessment is a formality,” Hamilton smirks. “One we have well in hand.”
“Are you implying that you’ve rigged the assessment?” I ask, voice dangerously quiet.
“I’m stating that we understand how the system works better than you do.” His eyes—dark brown, unlike Percy’s lighter hazel—hold mine without flinching. “This is business, Ms. Wolfhart. Not a nature documentary.”
“Our lands are not for sale!”
“They have already been sold.” Hamilton’s smile is smug, victorious. “Several times over, in fact. Once to the original developers fifty years ago, then to the county when they defaulted, and now to us. Your pack’s emotional attachment to the land, while touching, doesn’t change property law.”
I feel my control slipping, the wolf inside me clawing to get out. My hands shake with the effort of not transforming right here in their fancy office.
"Ruby, please," Percy says, stepping between us. "Let's be reasonable. I've worked hard on these new designs specifically with your concerns in mind. It's not perfect, but it's a compromise."
“A compromise?” I laugh, the sound harsh even to my own ears. “A compromise would be not building on our land at all!”
“That’s not an option,” Hamilton says flatly.
“Then neither is my cooperation.” I turn to leave, but Hamilton’s next words freeze me in place.
“Your cooperation isn’t required, Ms. Wolfhart. Though I wonder what your pack would think if they knew how… intimately you’ve been discussing these matters with Percy.”
I turn slowly to face him, ice flooding my veins.
“Are you threatening me?”
“Merely observing that your objectivity might be questioned.” Hamilton’s smile is all teeth. “Sleeping with the enemy isn’t generally consideredeffective activism.”
“Hamilton!” Percy hisses. “That’s enough.”
Rage wars inside me. “You son of a bitch.”
“I believe the term you’re looking for is ‘son of a sow,’” Hamilton corrects with mock politeness.
I’ve never wanted to rip someone’s throat out more in my entire life. “This isn’t over.”
Hamilton nods. “Though I do think this meeting is.”
I storm toward the door, shaking with fury. Percy calls after me, but I ignore him. It’s Hamilton’s eyes I feel boring into my back as I leave, Hamilton’s smug smile that makes my blood boil.
As I reach the reception area, I hear footsteps behind me. Heavy ones.
Hamilton.
“Ms. Wolfhart,” he calls. “A word in private.”
I don’t slow down, heading for the stairwell instead of waiting for the elevator. The last thing I need is to be trapped in a small space with him.
