Chapter 9 — Ethan
“Nice suit.”
I take the compliment with a smile as Thea looks at my reflection in her mirror.
The dress she’s wearing is pale yellow with a pleated skirt and a halter top.
It fits her well, highlighting her very pregnant belly under the breezy material.
Her ivory hair is piled up in curls with jewels woven into the strands.
Standing next to her is Akila, who’s dressed in a modified version of her uniform. It has longer sleeves, heavier leather, and the pants are dotted with silver buttons down the sides. Her hair is still in braids, but they’re tied up and out of her face. For a warrior, she cleans up good.
Compared to them, I look like a nobody in my dark double-breasted suit with gold buttons, but that’s probably the point. It’s not like I’m supposed to be here. I imagine they’re hoping that I blend in so much that the Shaman won’t notice me.
“I’m nothing compared to you two,” I say in all honesty. Thea responds with a short chuckle as Akila just smiles at us both.
“I look like an angel food cake.” She runs a hand over her large belly, her smile turning downward. “God, I feel like I’ve been pregnant forever. I can’t even see my feet anymore.”
“Luna, you could not look more beautiful,” Akila says. She steps in and rubs Thea’s belly. “I’m so proud you chose me to be her mother goddess. This wolf’s spirit is strong. She’s already so big.”
Thea laughs. “It’s godmother, and watch that ‘she’ business. Xander is certain I’m carrying a son.”
“All males think they’re having sons.” Akila shakes her head. “My father thought the same thing when my mother was pregnant with me. I sure fooled him, and I’m stronger than both my brothers.”
I like the two of them together, and I’m glad that in the time that Thea and I were apart, Akila was here to pick up where I left off. I can see that Akila adores her as much as I do.
Thea nudges Akila. “I’m sure Conan can’t wait to see you in your dress uniform.”
Akila huffs. “I care nothing for his opinion.” But her flushed cheeks and the way she preens in front of the mirror, constantly straightening her uniform, tell a different story.
I don’t dare ask what that’s about, but I’m confident I already know. I’ve seen how Conan tends to gravitate towards Akila at random times. He always tries to pair up with her during training unless Rhiannon explicitly assigns him another partner.
“Besides,” Akila continues, “we’re not talking about me. We were admiring how beautiful our Luna looks.” She looks at me, her eyebrows lifted. “Isn’t that right, Ethan?”
“Trust me,” I say to Thea. “You look radiant. Like a queen.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re all being paid to flatter me.” Thea shakes her head, smiling. “But thank you.”
Akila gives Thea’s hand a squeeze, then says, “I’d better get down there. Commander wants us lined up and ready to receive our guests.” She gives me a little wink of encouragement, then leaves us.
Once she’s gone, I offer the crook of my arm to Thea. “Shall we, your majesty?”
She loops her arm through mine and smiles. “We shall.”
According to the latest scout reports, the Elder Shaman and his family should be arriving any minute.
Thea has been filling me in on who they are and why this summit is so important, as well as potentially dangerous.
The Shaman have been enemies of the Crescent Pack for generations, throughout the reigns of most of Xander’s predecessors as Alpha. So, this is a big deal.
Luckily, my role is to be a fly on the wall. Just observe and make sure the Shaman mean what they say. They clearly trust my ability to perceive people, not that they shouldn’t. It’s never let me down.
Except for the other night, that is, with Rhiannon in the training yard. I thought I was reading her right, but . . .
I’ve been trying not to dwell on that too much.
“You okay?” Thea asks as we walk out into the courtyard.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. A little nervous, but fine. You?”
“Terrified,” she says brightly. “I’ve never attended a summit as Luna before.” Her smile twists nervously. “I really don’t want to screw this up.”
“You won’t. I’m here, remember? You’re in the best hands you ever could be.”
She rests her hand on my arm, her delicate smile returning. “I’m so glad for that.”
Suffice it to say, the feeling is mutual. If I’ve gotta be in this place, at least I’m with my best friend.
Alpha Xander greets us as we reach the main gates of the fortress, taking his wife’s arm and leading her to stand next to him.
That leaves me to find my place in the receiving line at the end of the Guard, all of whom are in their dress uniforms. I catch Rhiannon’s eye for a split second, but she looks away, focusing on the gates ahead.
She’s been acting as though nothing happened, and it’s making me question myself.
The other night, everything in her body language was telling me that she wanted me to kiss her.
The way her eyes kept darting to my mouth, the change in her breath, the dilation of her pupils — she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I was sure of it.
Yet, she ran away. Or rather, walked away.
Initially, I just brushed it off as some kind of rule about Lycans only dating other Lycans, but my gut has been telling me there’s more to it than that.
From the day I met her, she’s seemed to be carrying some kind of burden.
Whatever it is, she keeps it locked away, not ready to let anyone see.
I thought I saw a glimpse of it that night as she practiced. I hung back, out of sight, and watched for a few minutes until she stopped and a pained gasp slipped through her measured breaths as she stood under the moonlight.
The sound of distant howling pulls me back into the present. Everyone stops chatting and stands up straight, facing the entrance to the fortress.
The heavy iron gates open with a deep groan, and a large glowing orb passes through, hovering briefly before landing softly on the cobblestone ground that’s been freshly swept and adorned with scattered crimson petals.
Torches line the stone walls, throwing shadows across the assembled crowd as the evening breeze carries the mingled scents of roasting meat, honey wine, and ceremonial incense.
Right before our eyes, the orb’s brilliant light dies down like a setting sun, and three figures materialize through a dissipating cloud of golden mist. Thanks to Lady Gemma’s rundown during our earlier briefing, I’m able to identify each one right away.
The first is Elder Stasio, a tall man with short white hair and deeply tanned skin in a sleeveless white robe that shimmers with threads of silver catching the torchlight.
The fabric rustles softly with each step he takes.
He’s surprisingly muscular — with brawny forearms marked by ancient symbols etched in pale blue ink — yet he doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’s ever seen a day of hard work.
Behind him are his children, a son, named Holden, and daughter, named Haron, with the same amber skin and white hair.
Both of them are in their late twenties and rail thin, with delicate features that look carved from ice.
Their matching robes whisper against the stones as they move in lockstep, leaving me with the impression that I’ve just seen lightning-struck sand come to life.
The daughter’s eyes gleam with an unnatural iridescence in the fading light, while her brother’s gaze remains cold and still.
They look like angels. I half expect wings to suddenly sprout from their backs.
The lightbulb twins, I call them in my mind. I have to bite my cheek to keep from blurting it aloud.
Stasio walks directly to Xander. He moves so smoothly he looks like he’s floating across the ground. His children follow behind him in the same way.
The brother’s eyes are bouncing around the place like he’s mapping every escape route. Maybe it’s military training. They’re always planning for the worst-case scenario. I guess that’s not so weird, considering that if shit hits the fan, Holden will want to protect his family.
As he passes by me, a distinctive scent hits my nostrils.
It’s some kind of malty herb I can’t quite place — sharp and medicinal — clinging to his skin beneath expensive cologne.
When our eyes briefly meet, his expression shifts so quickly from strategic calculation to diplomatic warmth that I almost doubt what I’ve seen. Almost.
Haron’s gaze runs through the line of guards. She’s about to turn away when she does a double take the moment she spots me. She stares with curious dark eyes behind long lashes, her full lips lifting into a coy smile.
I avert my eyes quickly. Yikes. That’s a look I recognize. She’s interested in me. Just what I don’t need — another complication in this crazy world.
“Thank you for honoring us with this visit,” Xander says to Stasio. “How was your trip?”
Stasio gives a single, deliberate nod. Once up and once down. “It was very pleasant. Thank you for hosting us.”
From there, the wave of introductions begins. Xander introduces Thea, Lady Gemma, and members of the Pack Council. When he gets to us, he only introduces Rhiannon specifically, as Commander of the Guard. I give a small sigh of relief, thinking I’ve managed to blend in with the rest of the guards.
Just then, Stasio looks down the line the same way his daughter had a second ago. He sees me. He doesn’t do a double take like she did, but as soon as his gaze lands on me, he stops completely and his eyes sharpen. It’s like a spotlight has just been cast over me. “And . . . who is this?”
It dawns on me that I would’ve blended in better with the Council members than the line of guards. Since I’m not wearing a uniform, I probably stick out like a sore thumb.
“This is Ethan,” Xander says, “My Luna’s personal assistant.”
Stasio’s face doesn’t budge. He stands there like a statue with only his eyes moving over my face. “Hmmm,” he says simply.
Shit. Elder Stasio can tell I’m different from the others. He can’t quite figure out how yet, but he’s silently archiving that information. He nods again — once up and once down — satisfied. For the moment.
Then he turns back to Xander. “A formidable group you have here.”
And just like that, the spotlight’s gone as Stasio and Xander resume polite small talk amongst themselves. I let out a slow exhale.
I glance over at Stasio’s children. Holden and Haron are standing together, shoulder to shoulder.
At first glance, it looks like nothing, but .
. . I don’t know. I’m picking up an odd vibe from their demeanor.
Their facial expressions are shifting slightly.
Their lips aren’t moving, and they’re not even looking at each other, but it seems as if something is being communicated between them.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were having a conversation.
Just as I think that maybe I’m seeing things, Haron ducks her head with a shy smile, a pink hue rising in her cheeks. She covers her mouth to stifle a laugh.
Thea told me that Lycan can mind-link, so maybe Shaman can too?
Xander and Stasio wrap up the formalities, and everyone follows them further into the fortress. It occurs to me that I should get Rhiannon’s attention and tell her what I saw. But before I can, Rhiannon rushes to Xander’s side.
“My Lord, may I speak with you?”
“Can it wait?” Xander asks.
“No, My Lord. It can’t.”
Xander exchanges an awkward glance with Stasio, then turns toward Lady Gemma and waves her over. “Mother, would you be so kind as to escort our guests to their quarters, please?”
Lady Gemma nods, rushing to the Elder’s side, turning on her motherly charm. “This way. We selected our finest guest chambers for you.”
The second the Shaman are out of earshot, Xander and Rhiannon have a hushed back-and-forth before disappearing down the corridor toward Xander’s study.
I can’t shake the feeling that the siblings’ silent exchange felt off somehow, like they were plotting right under our noses.
Could whatever Rhiannon has to talk to Xander about be related to that?
Thea takes me by the arm and says in a bright tone, “Well done. You didn’t let them see you sweat.”
I chuckle. “Thanks.”
“I was thinking we could have a quick nightcap in the garden. The kitchen will make those little sandwiches you like.”
“Rain check?” I glance in the direction Rhiannon and Xander went. “I’ve gotta take care of something. You’ll be okay without me?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from your duties as Human Lie Detector.” She smiles and waves to Akila, who’s talking to Jayme and Branson. Akila comes bounding over, stray strands of her flyaway hair waving in the air behind her. “We’ll catch up later.”
I squeeze Thea’s hand and hurry after Rhiannon and Xander, hoping I’m just being paranoid.