Dad clapped me on the shoulder. “Well done, Ziara.”
I made a conscious effort not to lean into his touch. This rare show of his acceptance made me ravenous for more.
If he could only pull me into a hug….
But that would be too much. Dad wasn’t the affectionate type and had never embraced me. He wasn’t about to start now.
“For the pack!” someone shouted.
Mugs of the rancid brew were raised all around as our people repeated the mantra. “For the pack!”
Dad waited until the cry died out before adding his voice. “For the pack. Celebrate, my warriors. Soon, we will have our revenge!”
A cheer went up, near deafening in its vehemence. We were abloodthirsty people, and the Mondeine wouldn’t know what hit them.
Everyone went back to their revelry as Dad gestured for me and Rust to follow him. Rust’s mate had pressed in to stand next to him with their toddler—who was currently a fluffy white wolf—cradled in her arms. Rust kissed the adorable pup on the forehead and joined us.
The wolves on duty called out in congratulations as we entered the administration building and strode past the surveillance room and the beta’s office to the alpha’s headquarters. Dad ushered us in, and we were joined by his beta, Hitch, who closed the door behind him.
The space was everything one would expect of an Army general’s office; clean and tidy without a single paper out of place. Two framed war prints hung on the walls, one depicting the Battle of the Boyne, the other the March to Valley Forge. Like so many other battles, they were won by the magic and might of the Tricari long before the Mondeine knew of our existence.
A massive wooden desk was situated in one corner, enabling the alpha to watch both the door and the large south-facing window that overlooked the commons and the ramp leading out of the den. A bookshelf of research material, organized within an inch of its life, sat against the western wall, and a three-foot-tall clay pot in the far corner held rolled-up maps. A round rug designed to look like a compass covered a good portion of the floor.
The alpha leaned a hip against his desk and leveled his stare at me, wrinkling his nose. “I smell blood. Are you injured?”
I dipped my head. “No, Alpha. It’s not mine.”
His gaze shot to the slash across my sleeve.
“That’s just a scratch.” I pulled up the fabric to show him that the skin had already knitted back together and scabbed over.
He nodded, flipped the bloodstone over in his hand, and dropped his focus to it. “Report.”
Curious, I kept one eye on the artifact, wondering what role itwould play in the upcoming war as I recounted my first proper mission, fielding questions along the way. At the mention of the tech malfunction, he directed me to leave my gear, promising to have someone look it over. His eyes lit up as I detailed the fight, but his brow furrowed when I mentioned stabbing the man in the chest to escape.
“You mean in the heart?” he asked.
“No, sir.” I dropped my gaze. “I… missed.”
A beat of uncomfortable silence stretched between us before he asked, “And you didn’t remove his head?”
“No, sir.”
His displeasure thickened the air, making me feel like I was trudging through mud. “Why not?”
“The gargoyles were closing in, and I…” I swallowed, trying to work through my response. I couldn’t lie to the alpha, but the truth was too damn embarrassing. “He wasn’t what I expected.”
His eyes burned into me. “You hesitated.”
It was all I could do not to lower my head, since I had no tail to drop between my legs. “Yessir. And then the gargoyles were coming, and I didn’t have time.”
My skin was on fire. I was skating on the edge of the truth, and the alpha knew it, but how was I supposed to tell my father that the sight of a silver-eyed, bare-chested god of a man had tripped me up? We had a war to win, and I was perfectly happy with my boyfriend. Whatever malfunction my brain had suffered wouldn’t happen again. I’d make sure of it.
Annoyance furrowed Dad’s brow. “You’ve killed before.”
Unintentionally, but I couldn't remember that murder, so it didn't count. Choosing not to acknowledge it at all, I said, “Prey, yes, but he was a… a person. I didn’t expect to be facing a man.”
A man with vertical pupils. Like a cat. A man who could have killed me—several times—but who’d let me live.
