“Can it be that simple?” Tobias asks.
“No,” Jasper says. “But I have an idea. The first question is where should we convince Walter we’re moving my father to?”
“The pack retreat,” Olivia says.
“Where we hold the Blue Moon Festival?” Tobias asks, clearly shooketh that the site of this sacred ritual could be used for war games.
“Exactly,” Olivia says. “It’s comfortable for the alpha, the air is fresh. Easy to think we’re moving him there to recuperate in the country air. Plus, there are cabins for a few hundred soldiers. And it’s hours from the city in the middle of a big national park. The chances for civilian casualties are slim.”
“It’s perfect,” Jasper says. “We’ll need to ...”
As he continues my mind fills with memories of fire.
Flames engulfing a strangely familiar forest.
The discussion and planning continue but the sound of everyone’s voices fades into incomprehensible mumblings while the edges of my vision blur. Because all I can think is ...
What if the visions I had weren’t fake?
What if they just haven’t happened yet?
Have I just sentenced my pack to complete annihilation?
THE REAL WOLVES OF NEW YORK
“Thought that would never end,” Mason says as we hang in the expansive reception area outside the boardroom. Yet more stunning views of Manhattan surround us and black marble floors glitter beneath our feet.
Jasper is across the way shaking hands with Morven. Mia and Olivia are nearby. Salazar, Tobias, Mason’s dad, and the Rocky Pack gamma wolf are in a huddle, still going over the plans we just agreed on.
“Those men sure can chitchat,” I reply.
After I suggested using my abilities to trick Walter into thinking our forces and Jericho are in separate locations, the meeting dragged on for another couple of hours, with Jasper and the other high-ranking wolves examining every detail of the plan with a fine-tooth comb. It’s all very necessary and important but after my little bit of input I started to feel pretty superfluous.
“Got to triple-check those boxes.” Mason grins and we both share a quiet laugh.
“So.” I whack his shoulder. “How have you been?”
Although we speak all the time, texts and calls, I haven’t seen Mason in the flesh for over a year at this point.
He shrugs, gaze darting to the floor. “Oh you know, fine, fine.”
“Great that Morven’s had a one-eighty on the whole Mia and Olivia thing.”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t sound so pleased.
“What is it?”
“After she ran away, we kept in touch a little, but eventually my dad got suspicious and so she stopped. I haven’t really spoken to her in a while.”
“That sucks.”
“Yeah, and like, I get why she left, but she also left me there as the only queer wolf in the high-ranking families.”
“Does your dad know or are you still ...?” I trail off, not wanting to overstep.
“Closeted?” he asks. “Oh yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
