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“What can I do for you?” Gavyn asks, after a moment of us looking at each other in silence. The guards at the door shift uncomfortably at the tone of his voice. The air crackles with the potential for violence.

“Two weeks ago, we found six shifters from the Southern pack dead along the pack border,” Denvil says, his normally lilting, dancing voice flat. Like he’s simply reporting the facts of the case, rather than the man who couldn’t bring himself to breathe or move after we found them.

“Three days ago, one of our storehouses faced an attempted siege. Our soldiers were injured, and would have been killed had we not arrived,” Zade adds.

Brack finishes, “We have reason to believe it was you.”

Gavyn’s eyebrows shoot up to where his hair would be, were he not bald. His forehead wrinkles. Aside from the finger pointing at his own chest, he’s the picture of who, me?

“I…” Gavyn shakes his head, lets out a disappointed sigh, “…have to say that I’m shocked. I thought I was coming here to have discussions about relations between our packs. It’s actually kind of insulting that you think I would do something like that.”

His performance is just convincing enough that I don’t believe it in the slightest. Anger roils in my stomach.

“You were going to sacrifice that mega at the festival,” I point out, which earns me a quick glance from Zade. Crossing my arms, I add, “So enlighten me on how we’re supposed to assume you wouldn’t do something like that?”

Gavyn lets out a quick, disbelieving laugh, then runs his hand over his head. The scrape of it echoes throughout the large, white room. “Oh, come on—we aren’t seriously going to act like one omega sacrificed to the goddesses—for the good of all our shifters—is the same as murdering six alphas in cold blood near the Southern pack border, are we?”

Denvil twitches. “We never told you they were alphas.”

“They were near the border. I assumed they were the strongest of your fighters—alphas. Is that wrong?” Gavyn raises an eyebrow at us, but there’s a slight waver to his voice. He must have known they were alphas because he was there. Turning back to me, Gavyn adopts a casual tone, raising a single shoulder under his trench coat. “But speaking of that Omega…” he pauses, tilts his head up, and eyes me. “I can’t help but notice that you’ve made good use of her.”

A growl starts low in my stomach, a violent urge pushing up under my throat at the implication. At the very idea that he is thinking about her at all, especially in that context.

In Kault Castle, my people can clearly smell Mylah on me. They know better than to mention it. Even Kellen.

“What kept you from sacrificing her?” Gavyn asks, smirking, “Was it really worth it for a good time?”

I have to bite my tongue to keep from flying out of my seat and burying my teeth in his throat. My wolf paces angrily, a growl rumbling through him, hating the way this asshole is talking about my mate. The way I am allowing him to talk about my mate.

But I’m not just a wolf, or an alpha. I’m a king—leader of my pack. And I’m here, partially, in support of Denvil. In his house.

I restrain myself long enough for the man himself to stand, his own voice coming out as a growl. “You’re in my fucking house, Gavyn. You’ll address us with respect.”

“I didn’t allow you to sacrifice the Omega because Kault no longer does sacrifices like that.” I say through my teeth. “It’s brutal, unnecessary. We, as leaders, have decided that.”

Gavyn scowls, runs his tongue over his teeth. Looks like he’s also thinking of some choice words he’d like to say. Instead, he just dips his head once, barely.

“Well, I had nothing to do with the incident you’re talking about. If that’s all you needed, I have my duties to return to.”

With that, he turns on his heels and marches back out of the room, collecting his lackeys outside the door. Denvil’s guards follow along behind him, trailing and ensuring they make it out of the center and out of the pack territory.

Together, we sit in silence.

“Well,” Zade says, clearing his throat, “that probably could have gone better.”

“Yeah,” Denvil growls, his fists clenched white on the armrests of his chair. “I could have popped his stupid shiny head like the pimple he is.”

“Deep breath,” Brack deadpans, which earns him a shove from Denvil. Then, to me, “Not sure you should have taken the bait on the omega thing.”

Then, the three of them just stare at me. Shouldn’t we be talking about what just happened with Gavyn? Shouldn’t we be talking about our next steps? If we think he’s telling the truth about being involved?

There’s no way he’s telling the truth.

But my three friends, having been unable to talk to me for nearly a week, between Mylah’s heat and our recent preparations, are somehow more interested in this information.

So, I cast about for something else to give them. “My sister is the reason they were seeing that doctor.”

Brack’s brows knit together, Zade turns white, and Denvil shakes his head, “What are you talking about? Aurora took that omega there? Tried to kill her?”