“Traffic was light,” Leonid said, careless, “and when a Nordan Alpha sends such a charming letter asking for Volnoye's presence, who am I to be late?”
A low growl shuddered through the Volkhov line.
Julian’s eyes slid to Arthur, cold as the snow under their boots.
“You invited them?” Dominic asked. No temper yet. That was worse.
Arthur met his stare. “I didn’t invite them to your border,” he said. “I invited them to the summit. To the neutral ground we agreed. We need every pack that’s fought hybrids at the table—”
“You invited them,” Dominic repeated, speaking over him, “without telling me.”
The air tightened.
“You invited witches,” Arthur growled, “without tellingme.”
“So this was, what, revenge?” Dominic said softly, dangerously.
Arthur didn’t reply, fists clenching at his side.
“Well, this is a pleasant greeting,” Leonid observed, amused. “Is this how you always conduct diplomacy? Threats and accusations? No wonder the hybrids are having such fun.”
One of the younger Volkhov wolves snarled and took a step forward. Theodore’s arm shot out, catching him hard in the chest.
“No,” Theodore said mildly, “we’re not doing that today.”
“Let him come,” one of Leonid’s males taunted, “we haven’t killed a Volkhov in, what, three years?”
“Three and a half,” another corrected, cheerfully.
Dominic’s control frayed. Rage bled into his eyes; his fingers flexed like he wanted to curl them around Leonid’s throat.
“You are not welcome on my land,” he said, each word bitten, “you were banished. After you lost to me. We called for allies, not vultures.”
Leonid pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt. “Dom,” he said, “after everything we’ve been through.”
“Everythingyouput us through,” Dominic snarled, “how many died because you were hungry for power?”
Leonid’s smile sharpened, all teeth, “You drew first blood, Dominic. When you murdered your father. He was my uncle, my family.”
“He was a monster,” Dominic said, “and so are you.”
“A monster,” Leonid said softly, “that’s been invited into your home. How is sweet little Layla?”
Arthur broke in before Dominic could lunge. “Enough,” he said, “all of you.”
Chase moved up at his shoulder, easy swagger gone. The Nordan line fanned out, forming a third edge to the standoff, making the clearing into something like a warped triangle. Severney wolves appeared between the trunks opposite the witches, Rory at their head, Kiara shadowing him.
A shadow dropped from the trees with a muted thud near the Severney. The man stood, coat dark, hair slicked back, expression politely bored. Tall, slim, with a face that would have been forgettable if not for the wrongness in his stillness. His name, Arthur remembered with irritation, was Casimir. A vampire.
“This is all very stirring,” Casimir said, “but my prince didn’t send me north to watch you all posture until the hybrids attack. Are we going to have an actual meeting, or should I report back that the wolves are too busy measuring…teeth to deal with the hybrid problem?”
Several wolves snarled at once.
Rory chuckled, leaning against a tree. “Has it occurred to any of you that we could…Oh, I don’t know, try working together?”
“You could have mentioned it,” Dominic said to Arthur, ignoring Rory. The last word cracked, like a bone under strain. “Before they crossed my border.”
“I didn’t expect them to show up early and make a bloody parade of it,” Arthur snapped. “I thought they’d wait for the formal summons.”
