And brought out a bloody, severed head.
Kieran darted forward in his seat. The head belonged to a woman. A woman with dark brown hair, pale skin, and black eyes.
Pureblack eyes. A normal vampire. A feral one, most likely, since neutral cities were hotspots for Courtless creatures. Her eyes didn’t possess the gold of that unnatural freak he’d made bleed just a few days before. He’d expected her reputation to be all lies, but he’d seen her survive sunlight himself. Had seen her pull a silver blade from her hand and smile as her blood dripped onto the ground.
As a weapon, she was even more powerful than that greater fiend the Chains had subjugated themselves to. Fiends couldn’t create more of their type.
He leaned back with a growl. He knew she had slinked back to Chicago after killing a few of his best people. She’d intercepted them when they went to rescue Harper, sneaking up on them like a coward.
Or a ghost. Booker had spouted stories of how she’d ripped through them like a wind made of knives. Everyone was on edge.
Kieran stood, approaching the kneeling man. Though he was disappointed, he needed manpower more than a staked daywalker. According to traditional customs, the Wolf could only be granted through battle. You either survived an attack from one of its chosen or you killed an enemy of the pack you sought to join.
Kieran had done neither. The only reason he’d received the greatest gift a mortal could hope for was because Jackie needed muscle and, after observing him for over a year, thought he would be a valuable addition to her ranks.
Jackie was too fucking soft.
“Stand.”
Owen obeyed, dropping the head at Kieran’s feet. Sweat beaded on his brow.
“Whose pack do you belong to?” Kieran asked. Owen swallowed.
“Yours, Alpha.”
“In whose name do you hunt and kill?”
“Yours, Alpha.”
Kieran pushed up Owen’s jacket sleeve. “Whose spirit will you be linked to?”
Owen took a shaky breath. “Yours, Alpha.”
Kieran rumbled out a low snarl. A sound coming from deep in his chest, summoned by the animal within.
That was the only needed evidence to his legitimacy. Joining a Court came with benefits, and the Court of the Wolf was no exception.
Therianthropes were not only among the most numerous of supernatural creatures but also the most likely to join together. The Courts granted a unique ability to their members, with pack-bound therians gaining elected shifting. They could control how much they shifted.Whenthey shifted.
It was a balancing act, one made harder if you were overcome with either pain or rage, or outright impossible if the full moon was present. He could freely call on the Wolf, but if he let it out completely, the beast would take over, and it didn’t differentiate between friend or foe.
Right now, he didn’t need such a complete change. He only needed fangs.
With a primal growl, Kieran sank his now wolfish teeth into Owen’s bare arm. Bloody flesh filled his mouth, and the young man gasped. Then screamed.
But he didn’t move away. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and accepted this pain like the gift it was.
“You slew a foe of mine.” Kieran grabbed the back of Owen’s head and pressed their foreheads together. “You proved loyal. Proved strong. Proved worthy of the Wolf.”
Howls and cheers roared through the building. Owen laughed, the noise wavering with emotion, and he raised his bloodied arm into the air.
His transformation wouldn’t be complete until a few days from then, during the full moon, but he was one of them now. One of many who’d recently joined their ranks. Wanderers looking fora home, defectors seeking conflict, uniformed officers tired of playing by weak rules.
People who wanted to let the beast loose without being condemned for it.
“You’ve turned a lot of people lately,” Booker said as Kieran returned to his seat. “Not all of them will stay, you know that, right? We’re riding on a victory, but you don’t know these people. They might run when it gets tough.”
Kieran spat blood onto the floor. “You sound like Jackie.”
