Chapter Thirteen
Nyx
"I have a strange favor to ask."
Maverick looks up from his laptop, cocking an eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”
“Probably,” I laugh, switching seats to move closer to him along the dinner table. “But in all seriousness, before you rip my head off, let me explain my reasoning.”
He closes the laptop. “Well now I’m intrigued. Especially if you think this favor may result in death.”
Taking a breath, I test the words in my head first before voicing them out loud. “I want to contact Alpha Kingston.”
It’s clear by the bewilderment on his face that this was nowhere near what he was expecting. But with the look of surprise also comes the hesitation and suspicion.
“Now I understand your comment about needing to explain reasons. Because I’m struggling to figure out why you’d want or need to do that.”
Well, at least Maverick doesn’t look pissed or say no immediately. That’s definitely progress.
“This is going to sound… stupid.”
“You’re not selling this very well.”
“Well stop cutting me off and let me keep trying,” I grumble.
Maverick waves his hand, a signal for me to continue.
I lean forward, cupping my hands together like the bad business boss bitch I am. "I've been doing a lot of reflecting about Ophelia. And after the… meeting with her, I've been trying to figure out ways to help."
His eyebrow twitches but says nothing, letting me have the floor uninterrupted. I explained to the guys about the weird dream slash astral plane experience I had, and while they also agreed it seemed real, I can tell Maverick was struggling to grasp a reality we couldn't see or understand.
To be fair, I don't understand it either. But I have to believe it was real. It felt like it. Surely if I was going to have a dream while unconscious, it would be something completely different—like drinking coffee while naked and being ravaged by my mates.
"Ophelia said she couldn't give me any advice, that our circumstances were different to hers. But I remember reading that during the Great War, she travelled to different packs, to negotiate with them. I started to wonder if I could perhaps do something similar, but for our situation."
"What did you have in mind?" He asks cautiously. "Kingston doesn't negotiate."
"That's where it will be different," I tell him. "Not negotiate, because there's nothing we need or want to trade. But to have allies. He might have more information too. It seemed like he knew pretty well what was happening when you spoke to him on the phone. Especially since he had a relationship with Alpha Thom. Maybe that information is the key to solving the missing pieces. Plus, it never hurts to have allies, especially for when Orson decides to attack."
Maverick pulls a look of concentration. "I honestly don't think it will be worth it," he says, in a disappointed tone. "I fully agree. But Kingston does not like associating with other packs."
"Maybe not, but he was friends with Alpha Thom. That would make them allies. So, we know it's possible."
He pauses, staring at me intensely. Finally, he relaxes slightly, a small smile appearing. "It won't hurt to try. Just try not to piss him off. He gets irritated easily and I'd hate to have to kill him if he lashed out at you."
We're sitting in Alpha Daxton's office, waiting for Kingston to call when Lex suddenly lets out a low whistle.
"You'll never believe it, but I finally accessed that laptop we retrieved from the Celestial Pack."
I look up in interest. Cade tilts his head in confusion, but although he doesn't ask, I see him unscramble the puzzle.
"What does it say?" Maverick asks impatiently.
Lex turns the laptop to face us. "Emails from Orson. Pleasant banter at first, making small talk. Or so it would seem. He asked a lot of pressing questions such as whether the neighboring packs were problematic, how big their land was—things like that."
"Not suss at all," I point out sarcastically. "What did the alpha say?"
"Alpha Ford answered at first, but when he didn't give the exact information Orson wanted, their exchanges became a little more hostile."
