Acorn shifted on her shoulder, settling his weight. A tiny show of solidarity.
She met Bastian’s gaze. “I’ve been investigating the shifting sickness affecting the region.”
Bastian’s posture didn’t change, but his scent did.
He was startled. He didn’t smell guilty, however, which I found interesting. Something like that couldn’t be masked, not among wolves.
“How many of your pack cannot shift?” she asked.
“They can all shift,” he said with a huff.
She leaned forward. “How many have a hollow feeling when they reach for their wolves?”
His gaze dropped from hers. “We’re handling it.”
“So some.” Her eyebrows rose. “It’s affecting more than this pack, which means it’s a wide-spread problem.”
He just grunted.
“I’ve identified some unusual flora while doing research,” Victoria said, her tone as clinical as if she was discussing weather patterns. “The magical signature suggests old pack-sealing magic that’s been broken or disrupted. I can’t yet determine if it is deliberate or accidental. But the pattern is spreading.”
She paused, letting that sink in.
“I imagine that’s of some concern to you since it could also impact your pack,” she said.
Silence stretched through the room.
Around the hall, my pack members had gone still. Kirk’s expression had sharpened. Maria exchanged a glance with Tessa that showed approval.
Pride shot through my chest.
Bastian’s smile returned. “Fascinating. I had no idea the sickness had drawn such scholarly attention.”
“Knowledge tends to spread when problems affect adjoining populations,” Victoria said. “Particularly when those problems appear to originate from specific geographic locations.”
She’d placed the slightest emphasis on specific.
Bastian shifted in his chair. “The northern creek territory is extensive. Narrowing down a contamination source would be quite challenging.”
She hadn’t mentioned the creek.
It didn’t prove guilt, per se. His pack would’ve known we were in the area. They would’ve watched us.
I kept my face neutral, filing the information away with everything else I’d collected during this conversation.
“I enjoy a challenge,” Victoria said.
“We’re through, then,” I said, standing, tugging Victoria up to stand beside me, looming over Bastian.
“Yes, I believe we are.” Bastian rose as well. “Thank you for your hospitality, Feral. And for the treaty proposal. I’ll send word within the week.”
“Yes, do.” I matched his pleasant tone. This had been a draw. Neither of us had gained significant ground.
But Victoria had rattled him. That counted for something.
I walked him to the entrance, the formal courtesy required between alphas. His enforcers filed out first. Bastian paused at the threshold, turning back.
“Your witch is more formidable than I expected,” he said, pitching his voice low enough that only I could hear.
