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Alarik had also had a forbidden connection with a Quatura.

Did Father know about it?

I sent a quick prayer to the heavens because Alarik was clearly risking his life too often. He had always been a daredevil, and right now it didn't look like that was going to change anytime soon. I had to talk to him before his life went completely off the rails.

I quickly looked around for Nash, who was supposed to be present for such matters, but he had once again – how could it be otherwise – disappeared. And certainly not to study hard for his medical degree.

“Dark witchcraft,” my uncle said, and I swallowed hard.

The rest of the pack whispered in disbelief at Alarik's statement, and even Bayla looked at Alarik as if he had just lost his mind.

I had never heard of dark witchcraft before. When it came to the Quatura, it was always elemental witchcraft that was talked about. But elements weren't capable of such things.

It sounded like my uncle had made up a bizarre story. Something that would certainly be fitting for him. If he weren't a busy professor teaching three subjects and the director of an entire university, he would definitely write fiction and publish thousands of poetry books.

My father still stared at Alarik, and for a moment, I was afraid he would say something, but the Rolanow Alpha intervened again.

“Nickolas. We should question the girl.”

Oh, shit.

My father’s gaze drifted back to Bayla, who looked as if she wanted the ground to swallow her up.

“Now,” Dimitrio growled. “Before she becomes one of your countless problems.”

Surprised, I looked at the Russian Alpha.

Every time he spoke to my father, he crossed the line. He had been taking this liberty for weeks, and Father agreed with him on every little thing.

Nash had told me that this was traditional behavior when having other packs as guests.

As much as I wanted to agree with him, I would have preferred to put Dimitrio in his place.

“Follow me,” Father said calmly to Bayla, then looked at Alarik. “And we will talk later.”

I gritted my teeth.

Alarik was going to get a lecture. Probably for getting in trouble with the Quatura and knowing something about dark witchcraft, if his lies were to be believed.

“What were you thinking, bringing the witch girl here?!” it burst out of me with such concentrated bewilderment that I felt my transformation setting in. However, I managed to quickly suppress it by regulating my breathing.

My uncle's eyes glowed a warm neon yellow, and he took a brown leather backpack out of the car, obviously belonging to Bayla. His tension was palpable.

“I knew you would react like this.”

Excuse me?

“And that's why I wanted to talk to you in private.”

I crossed my arms and looked at Alarik with raised brows.

We were in the circular driveway leading to the estate, far enough away from anyone who could hear us.

“Bayla is in danger. She was exposed and couldn’t stay there any longer. This place is her only chance.”

Too many questions flooded my head at once.

“How can you and even the Quatura believe that she's one of us? She doesn't even smell like us.”