Since signing the alliance that had resulted in Rynn joining our pack over a decade ago, they had expanded to include Avala in the us part of their mentality, but they still very much hated the Fervis Order. I knew, in Rynn’s uncle’s eyes, the best solution was to wipe out the Fervis Order entirely, which was not something the Alpha pack, and therefore the Avala Order, would ever agree to.
Sorin and I walked into a large room that was fairly similar to Cade’s study, just lacking the openness of the wall that had been torn out. Sorin’s gaze immediately went to Rynn, and I followed it. She was standing in front of a dark wood desk, a tall man with the same chestnut brown hair stood in front her, leaning in to whisper in her ear.
Altair, Rynn’s uncle and the Alpha of not only his pack but the entire Narchis Order.
I found it interesting that Sorin had felt the need to speak quietly to me in the hallway, and here we found Rynn’s uncle doing the same to her.
The Valatieri pack seemed to have many secrets, and it felt like most of them revolved around Rynn.
Altair dropped his hand away from Rynn’s shoulder and gave me a wide smile. “Thank you so much for making the journey and bringing Rynn back to see us. We’ve all missed her.”
Given all the letters he had sent me over the past month, I knew he was happy I was here, but I was also equally sure he didn’t give a single shit that Rynn had come with me.
There was no tenderness in his eyes when he looked at her, and based on the stiff way Rynn was standing, whatever he’d been telling her hadn’t been welcome information.
Cade hated dealing with this aspect of Velesian politics. How our supposed allies would say one thing but mean another. In person, he would politely go along with it, but once we got home, he’d drown his frustration in a barrel of honey ale and complain about how the further up in hierarchy Velesians got, the more they acted like Moroi.
Occasionally, I’d bring Ryker with me on my travels to check in with the various packs. He was surprisingly well-behaved during the visits. Mostly because he just ignored everyone and walked away when he got bored. That was definitely a trait he’d picked up from Warrick.
My gut twisted, causing me to grimace. Fucking Warrick. That man was the bane of my existence even when he wasn’t fucking here.
Sorin walked across the room and poured two glasses of an amber liquor. I was a little surprised and annoyed when, instead of bringing one to me, he brought it to Rynn. She took it from him a little hesitantly before he very deliberately placed himself between her and Altair, a move that did not go unnoticed by anyone in the room.
Rynn’s father, Cyrus, outright glowered at the two of them from where he sat on a settee to the left of the desk. Sitting next to him was a young lycan with golden-blond hair and striking green eyes. Ivan, Altair’s youngest son.
Altair and Cyrus were close in age and both were fourth-generation Velesians. They’d seen a century come and go, but neither looked older than forty. Most of the fourth generation was still around, and only some were starting to show their age. We had no idea what would happen with the fifth generation. Cade and I were both sixty-three, but we didn’t look any older than Rynn.
Just like with the Moroi and Furies, the fifth generation seemed to have stopped aging in our twenties. The Drudonian scholars had no idea when or if we would start to age again. We might live in a land full of vicious monsters, but at least we got to stay young and pretty.
“There is always a silver lining if you know where to look,” Cade’s mother used to say.
Ivan was only a couple of years older than Rynn, but there didn’t seem to be any familial love between them, based on the coldness in his eyes as he stared her down.
Rynn raised her chin and glared back at him.
That’s my girl.
I frowned. No. Not my girl. Where the fuck had that come from? Shaking my head slightly, I refocused on managing the situation.
“Mind if I take a seat?” I asked, drawing everyone’s attention back to me.
“Go right ahead.” Altair gave me a wolf’s smile. “You don’t have to ask, Bastian. What’s ours is yours.”
I looked at Rynn. “It is, isn’t it?”
That got a chuckle out of both Rynn’s uncle and father, whereas her brother looked like he was ready to rip my head off. Ivan just had a bored expression on his face.
I took a seat on the settee opposite Cyrus and Ivan and glanced at Rynn. “Get me a drink, darling?” I made it a question, but the command in my tone was clear.
It was a challenge to bite back the laugh that tried to escape my throat at the absolute murderous expression on Rynn’s face. She definitely would’ve punched me if I’d acted this way at home around the rest of the Alphas. But she couldn’t do it here in front of Cyrus. I had clearly missed something about the dynamics of this pack, and Rynn had acted cagey when I’d asked about her family.
It was too late for me to really do anything about it now. The deal had been struck. We were allied with them, and Rynn belonged to the Alpha pack. But my curiosity wouldn’t let it go. Not to mention any insight as to how their pack worked would make it easier to manipulate them in the future, or prevent them from manipulating us.
As if on cue, Rynn stomped over to where her brother had gotten her a drink and grabbed another glass. I couldn’t see her pour it because her back was to me, but I was fairly certain she was spitting in it.
Altair grinned at me once more before looking to Sorin. “I believe you have a patrol you were going to do today.” Not a question.
“It’s not pressing,” Sorin said smoothly as he watched Rynn walk stiffly across the room and practically throw the drink in my face. “I can do it tomorrow."
