She smelled like a mix of summer rain and green things Jono had no name for and wouldn’t recognize if he hadn’t crossed the veil into Tír na nÓg last December. Órlaith exuded otherworldly power that stilled Finley’s feet at the threshold to the home, the god pack alpha watching her the way prey eyed a predator.
“Wolf,” Órlaith said coolly. “I come as an ally to the New York City god pack. You will stay your hand, or I will take this land of yours for the fae on their behalf.”
Jono got out of the car, as did Wade and Sage, but he was the one who pulled Cressida from the back seat. He didn’t bother being gentle, letting her body fall heavily to the ground. He scanned the crowd of werecreatures, gaze lingering on Bryson only a couple of seconds longer before focusing all his attention on Finley.
Órlaith was a tall, fierce defense that kept Finley rooted where he stood. The rest of the London god pack took their cue from their alpha and didn’t move. Jono met Finley’s furious gaze with his own.
“We’ll do this in your challenge ring,” Jono said.
“Come back to take what you think is yours?” Finley spat out.
Jono smiled nastily. “I don’t want your sodding pack. I have one of my own. I just know better than to cross your home’s threshold.”
Órlaith led the way, with Sage taking up the rear as Jono dragged Cressida around the home and to the back field that pushed up against the reserve. By the time they got there, the London god pack had filled the space around the challenge ring, all eyes on them. Jono weathered their attention easily, keeping his focus on Finley.
The other alpha’s expression was a grim mask where he stood on the edge of the challenge ring, his pack arrayed around him. It was far more people than had been present the other night, and many of them looked ready for a fight.
Órlaith came to a stop on the grass some meters away from the edge of the challenge ring. Jono slowed to a halt beside her. Sage and Wade lined up beside him, but there was still enough space between them for Jono to swing Cressida around and toss her to the ground between their two sides.
“Wake up,” Órlaith commanded.
Cressida jerked, body heaving against the ground. She gasped for air, hands clenching into fists behind her back as she fought the metal cuffs that kept her trapped in human form. She rolled from her side onto her back, eyes flicking back and forth as she took in her predicament. Órlaith calmly stepped forward to slam her foot down onto Cressida’s chest, pinning the woman to the ground like one would pin a bug.
“Youcunt,” Cressida gasped out.
“Rude,” Wade retorted. “She’s a princess.”
Órlaith looked at Jono, her riot of red-orange hair falling in thick waves past her hips, eyes calm in her too-beautiful face. “Speak your truth. I will keep this one in her place.”
Jono’s gaze slid back to Finley, the other man scowling so hard Jono could see nearly all his teeth. “We’ve come in peace, with no desire for your territory. All we want is a word.”
“You come with the fae, dragging my pack’s co-leader after you like a slave. That isn’tpeace, Jonothon,” Finley sneered.
“Way I see it, you haven’t had peace in years. Not since Cressida came down from the north.” Jono looked at Bryson, seeing the way the other man held himself so stiffly, the same way too many others in the pack did so. “You never questioned where she came from.”
“It’s not our way. You know that. Pack is who you are, not what you were.”
“Maybe it should be. Maybe you should’ve wondered why Cressida’s first act after joining your pack was to challenge Jessamine.”
“Jess—” Finley’s voice didn’t crack, but Jono knew it would’ve if the other man had spoken her full name. “—accepted the challenge. And she lost. Pack law gave her rank to Cressida, as tradition dictated.”
“And every year since, Cressida has run your people through the rank of dire, killing them off one by one. But only those she considered a problem or a threat, am I right? People loyal to Jessamine. Those who knew pack law and tried to use it against her. Anyone who would get in her way of breaking down the London god pack.”
“Yourpoint?” Finley growled, rankled by Jono’s words.
Jono would’ve pitied him if he cared enough to—but he didn’t. “The other god pack in New York sent hunters against mine earlier this year.”
“Not our problem.”
“The hunters belong to the Krossed Knights, and you know hunters willingly carry demons in their souls.” Jono looked down at where Cressida lay on the ground, glaring up at him. “Just like Cressida here.”
Cressida rasped out a laugh. “Do I smell like I have a demon in my soul?”
“You called him Andras last night, and cried for it like you were dying when we tore the bastard out of you.”
The rage spilling off Cressida was matched only by the bleak grief that filled her scent, making Jono’s nose twitch. Finley’s gaze snapped to Cressida, who wouldn’t look at him, all her attention reserved for Jono.
“I don’t—” she began.
