The influx of omegas missing from Pack Fallamhain. The numbers started to rise around the time Merritt died. It doesn’t make sense until it does. While he was alive, his pack’s losses were statistically controlled. He sourced from other packs, dipping into his own ranks only for the sake of appearances. With him gone, his pack became fair game like everyone else’s.
“And now.” Cathal’s voice brings me back. “Your interference is the reason you’ve landed where you have. A position you could have avoided entirely if you’d just done what you were told.”
If he’d kept away from me. If he’d kept the past buried. That’s what Cathal means by this.
That’s the bitter truth. Rennick would probably still be unaware of the atrocities happening in his territory, committed by his own people. His own father. If we hadn’t found our way back to each other, exactly as Mom intended.
Rennick exhales slowly through his nose. I can’t tell if the sound is irritation or anger. “Is there a point to this call, McNamara? And are we going to get there soon?”
There’s a pause. The kind meant to unsettle.
“Yes,” Cathal says finally. “I’m calling with an offer. The only one you’re going to get.”
My stomach drops and twists at once.
“I’ll give you one chance,” he continues. “One opportunity to choose correctly. Surrender now, and you can stop the bloodshed before it starts. My pack and Tanith’s coven are already aligned. You saw the aftermath of Ashvale, so you know how ruthless these witches can be. They won’t hesitate to cut your people down.”
Rennick lets out a humorless sound. “You expect me to believe you’ll just let my pack walk away if I hand you what you want? Control over the land. Access back to the runway.”
Cathaltsks.
“Of course I’m not offering to let your whole pack go,” he corrects with a casualness that feels malicious. “We’ll round up all the omegas—snag a couple betas too if they catch the eye enough to put them in the auction.” There’s a pause. Long enough I can picture it. Call it a hunch, but I know he’s smirking. “But you, the prodigal son? Tanith will never allow you to live. Not after you killed one of her daughters. And Talis,” he adds, “has already requested that she be the one to deal with the runt. Which I agree is fair. Your new mate owes my daughter a debt.”
Rennick’s chest begins to vibrate against my back, his wolf battling its way toward the surface. Lethal energy rolls off my alpha, thick and uncontained, and I don’t know how to help him carry it.
“Why,” he grits out, molars grinding so hard I can hear the faint squeak, “would I ever agree to this so-called offer of yours?”
Cathal sighs, the sound seeped in false sympathy. “Because while it won’t save everyone—yourself included—it’s the only way to guarantee that some of your pack walks away alive. And I know that’s something that will appeal to your tender heart.” Silence stretches thin again, and then, “Think it over. But think fast. You’re running out of time, boy.”
The line goes dead.
Rennick tosses his phone onto the desk. It hits the metal with a bang.
For a long moment, neither one of us moves. We can’t really, not with his knot still pulsing and stretching between my thighs. We don’t talk either.
Then his phone vibrates again. The sound snaps through the stillness like a gunshot, far too loud as it rattles against the desk.
I glance at the screen and grimace. It’s anotherUnknown Number.
Probably the other pack Alpha he’d actually scheduled a call with.
And still, Rennick glares at the device, and grumbles, “Let it go to fucking voicemail.”
Chapter 44
Rennick
Snow from the last storm still blankets the ground, packed down in the high-traffic paths by patrol teams and loose deeper into the trees where it hasn’t been disturbed. My paws break through the crust as I run, crunching with each driven step. It clings up my legs, and despite my fur as a protective layer, the chill bites through as it melts with my body heat. The darkening sky overhead is a dull gray and the clouds are thick and hanging low. They’re the kind that carry the threat of another storm but haven’t decided if they’re going to let go yet.
I’d prefer if they exercised restraint. I don’t want anything else delaying me from getting home to her..
It’s the third patrol shift of the day.
I can feel the strain deep in my bones already. My shoulders burn from picking my way through uneven terrain, from checking the same borders over and over for weaknesses that might be too late to fix. My paw pads are worn raw from the ice and freezing temperatures. Each shift, I ignore the discomfort and push through it. This has been the new routine since the meeting in the conference room with everyone four days ago. The schedules are brutal and unfair, but I keep reminding myself that they’re temporary. A necessity just for now.
Even if it feels like I’m stuck in an endless loop of my body knitting itself together only for it to be time for me to go on patrol again. Rinse and repeat.
Mercer runs on my left, his dark wolf staying a pace behind me. His strides are efficient, no wasted exertion. As headenforcer, his body is honed for this. He’s the kind of male who will run until his lungs bleed and still be perfectly composed while doing it.
