“Fair enough,” Lorraine said. “But he’s following the laws, and I think he’s doing a good job. As are Bussy and Margie.”
Nadia was getting extremely tired of the damn laws.
Margaret took a delicate sip of her tea. She wore modern jeans and a green sweater that brought out her eyes. “Do you have any idea the trouble we’d be in if we didn’t do our job? If you and Caidrik had become intimate, we’d be laughingstocks.”
Nadia swallowed. Her stomach cramped. She hadn’t realized her actions affected anyone but herself. Yet naked against him, she wasn’t sure she could’ve said no. Maybe she should try to stay away from him for a while. Or did the old language really dictate that so firmly? She hesitated. “Do you have a primer or something for the older language?”
Gail stood. “You are stubborn,” she said fondly. “Which is something we need in our Alpha females.” She disappeared into the other room, drawers opening and closing. When she returned, she carried several journals, their covers cracked and worn. “These are what I used when I learned the old language. It was spoken a few hundred years ago. I translated most of these.”
The volumes looked ancient. Their leather bindings were darkened with age, the ink faded to brown, and the margins crowded with careful notes.
“Thank you,” Nadia breathed.
Gail refilled everyone’s drinks. “Also, I’m fairly certain there’s an actual translation of the grimoire somewhere. Don’t know where.”
Nadia gulped. “Do you have any ideas?”
“No, but I’ll ask around. For now, I don’t want to encourage you to break the laws,” Gail said primly.
“I know,” Nadia said, excitement flaring anyway. “I promise I’ll be careful.” She’d gotten to know the ladies the last couple of months, and she trusted them. “I have a question.”
The room quieted.
“Isaac said it’d be better to have a strong Alpha female who can fight and that Taryn might be a better choice for the pack.” Nadia lifted her chin. “If that’s true, I can handle it. I just need to know.”
The women exchanged looks.
“No,” Bussy said finally.
Margaret nodded. “You can learn to fight. What we need is someone who can move us into the modern world without burning everything down.”
“That’s a good point,” Lorraine said, pushing her glasses up. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We want you,” Gail said simply.
Nadia’s shoulders finally dropped. “Okay.”
“But,” Bussy added, chin lowering, “you really do have to start fighting for your man.”
“Not yet,” Nadia said dryly. “I already went into the middle of nowhere and pissed him off last night. That counts, right?”
Bussy grinned. “That most certainly counts.”
Margaret smiled. “Let’s see what we can come up with next, shall we?”
Yeah. Sure. Now all Nadia had to do was fight for her man without kissing him outside of the trials. Wanting him was simple. Staying away from him was going to be the real challenge.
Her belly pleasantly full of pastries and coffee, Nadia stalked into the formal dining room of her family home. The long table gleamed under the overhead light. “Solomon. I want to see the grimoire.”
Solomon looked up from the far end of the table. Ledgers were spread out in careful rows in front of him with each one marked. The grimoire rested near his elbow where he leaned. He wore a gray slate suit with a slate-colored tie that somehow worked. “The rules prohibit my giving the grimoire to anybody,” he said softly.
She planted her feet. “I don’t believe that.”
He straightened and tugged on his tie. “The book says nobody else can take the grimoire during the trials.”
She stepped closer. “The book can’t say that.”
“Of course it does,” he said. “We don’t want anyone altering the laws in the middle of a contest.” He reached over and flipped the massive bound book open toward the back. “It’s clearly laid out here. See?”
