Standing from his seat, Keon placed his palms on the table and spelled out the harsh truth for the arrogant ass who thought he could walk into his house and rule it. “If you can’t articulate why my word to return your sacred item—special enough you allowed it to bestolen—is insufficient, you can get out of my house and take your sorry excuses and lack of apology with you. I will not stand by and allow an Alpha to walk into my territory, piss on my hospitality, and expect to settle his army on our boundaries. You have five minutes to say your piece, before I sendmymen intomyterritory to pick apartyourarmy, piece by bloody piece!”
Chapter Four
Keon
THE CHAIR CLATTEREDto the floor as Thatcher stood. “You dare speak to me in such a manner?”
“You dare respond to an invitation with an army?” Keon snapped, releasing his temper now he knew this Alpha was unworthy of negotiations. “You invaded my land. Murdered one of my guards. You will answer for those crimes before I give you a blade of grass from my territory. Sit and make your bargain or get out!”
Thatcher straightened his posture and adjusted his leather waistcoat. “I will not negotiate with a hot-headed fool. I will return to the land outside your territory and await the Meskli, who shall judge this matter. His decision shall be law and neither shall seek further retribution,” he announced, gesturing for his son to rise. “Come, Usher.”
“Agreed.” Keon knew the Meskli would be fair. Farley had taught him what it meant to be a m’weko and how to control his change, how and when to use his emotions. “Be aware: you murdered an innocent man, and Iwillseek death for his murderer.”
The arrogant asshole swept from the room, leaving a deafening silence in his wake. One that Weston cut through with a harried sigh, muttering as he bustled from the room. “Was that wise, Alpha?” he asked, letting the door swing shut behind him.
Keon doubted he’d seen the last of his unwanted guests.
Tugging his waistcoat into position, Keon raked a hand through his hair. As he left the house, where Weston waited, he repeated his mantra: fake it until he believed it.
Walking to the podium in the village square, he formulated his speech and hoped it would be the last. Weston had done his job, seeing Thatcher and Usher into the care of the guards, ringing the bell to call a community meeting on his way. Time for Keon to take a tighter hold of the reins.
With the pack’s arrival, Keon climbed the steps and prepared to speak. The noise was deafening. Everyone had an opinion. Scared Thatcher would use his army to destroy the pack, worried about their families being separated after one pack had devoured the other. History had left harsh lessons in their memories.
Putting two fingers between his lips, he whistled to no avail. “Oi!” he called, waving his hands. When the last murmurs faded, he gave one more warning. “I know you’re worried, but if you shut it and let me speak, I will explain.”
Finally, silence descended.
Keon swung his hands behind his back. “I know I’m not your ideal Alpha, but your lives are in my hands and it’s my duty to protect you. Which means arguing with Thatcher, who is an arrogant asshat who doesn’t respect the laws,” he explained, watching curious faces give their undivided attention. “I sent a note to Thatcher, inviting a delegation. He spat on my hospitality by bringing his army into our territory. He chose to make threats, which I returned.” Chuckles from the crowd and sceptical looks suggested he wasn’t capable of being a threat. He hoped he would never need to threaten his pack, but surely they knew any Alpha?even Keon?would fight to protect their pack?
“Thatcher has requested we invite the Meskli to settle this matter.” Keon nodded, relieved Farley would bear the brunt of Thatcher’s blustering. “We have a couple days until he arrives, no more. I want to make some matters clear in the interim.” With Thatcher lingering nearby, and Farley due to arrive, time to consider and plan how to do this right had disappeared.
Again, time was not on his side.
“I amnotmy brother,” Keon reminded them. “Simeon couldn’t get his head out of his ass or his arse out of his bed, on a good day. I won’t have you expecting me to start where he left off. He was an arrogant shithead who spent 90 percent of his life thinking with his dick.Isacrificed time with my family—who have since died!—to earn a degree for the benefit of this pack.” In agriculture and history, but let them underestimate him.
Someone laughed, drawing his gaze to Eliseo, who stood to the side of the crowd, blushing when his nearest neighbours darted a glance. At least someone liked his honesty about Simeon. Mother knew, if anyone knew the worst of Simeon, it would be his mate. Someone Keon hoped to talk to soon.
As soon as he laid out new laws. Non-negotiable laws to bury Simeon and his idiocy for good.
“Speaking of Simeon,” Keon said, aware the brainless twat was the cause of most of his problems, “let’s talk about indiscriminate fucking.”
Faces reddened, whispers and muttering followed, the affable nudging their friends and neighbours to make a joke. It wasn’t a joke. Not in this world. If he’d been scolding a group of teenagers in Dnara, he’d see the funny side. Except, he wasn’t a hypocrite; he was as untouched as when he’d left Vihaan.
“Weston kept detailed records of every minute of Simeon’s rule. I know what has been happening, and it began with my brother,” he acknowledged, glancing around the crowd to keep their attention. “Here’s how it’ll be under my rule: if you both consent, I don’t give a damn who you fuck. No influence, no bribery or threats, no taking advantage of someone weaker, smaller, drunk, or incapacitated.
“I don’t want bullshit, either.Everyone is doing it.You’ll be the only virgin.No one else will have you.No psychological, abusive shit or you’ll answer to me.” Keon caught one fool chuckling and speared him with his gaze until he stopped. His point made. “I dealt with Simeon my whole life. I know his tricks. I’ve never seen anyone, in Vihaan or Dnara, more underhanded or arrogant than my brother. I can promise, if you emulate his behaviour, you’ll pay dearly.”
Eliseo’s eyes sparkled with what Keon thought was the onset of tears. He caught Keon’s eye and hugged his waist, nibbling on a thumb nail, the epitome of a vulnerable, lost young man who had been the victim of Simeon’s abuses. Keon didn’t know how long they’d been mates, or if they’d been courting in secret, but it never took Simeon long to leave scars.
A conversation he would have with Eliseo soon.
“When Alpha Farley arrives, I expect you to be on your best behaviour. We don’t need to give Thatcher further ammunition,” he reminded them, hoping they were smart enough to know better. “I’m not unfair. I’m not prudish. I don’t care who you fuck: men, women, or both. Unlike other territories, E’Boolou’s m’nuni is confined to our mating. We have our true mates and chosen mates. Nothing else is demanded of us but to make the choice.”
Similarly to Rylee and Drew’s relationship, m’nuni required stages for a mating to be secured. Like the five stages of Rylee’s people, foame required three: to accept their mate, to have their mate accept them, and to secure the choice through a marriage, making love, and exchanging a blood mark.
Often, the mental acceptance was the hardest part, because it bred a bond painful to sever. Accepting the bond and being rejected by their mate, they endured a difficult road to overcome the intense affection and near-infatuation. Weeks, months, needed to sever the bond and grieve.
Not a pleasant experience.
