Chapter 2
The pack really needed to update these ridiculous laws. Nadia stood in the empty house and let the thought settle as she listened to the quiet all around her. Per the archaic rules, Emily and Philip had left the territory, and their absence pressed in from every side.
It surprised her how quickly the space had changed once they were gone.
She had never expected family to root itself in her this deeply.
Her mother had been dead for years, and her father and sister were still new to her.
They were working on having good relationships.
Even so, the hollowness in her chest was unmistakable, a steady ache she couldn’t shake.
But these trials? Thinking about them made her steady herself against the urge to laugh hysterically.
How was this now her life?
She moved into the sitting room with deliberate care, aware of the long skirts swishing around her ankles. For the first time ever. She’d been too embarrassed to admit to Emily that she’d never worn a formal gown before.
But she could plan a crop rotation within an inch of its life, using color coded spreadsheets.
She loved to plan and organize. In fact, every drawer in the house was organized and color coded.
There was nothing she loved more than a drawer organizer.
Well, maybe the glass jars in the kitchen pantry that she’d labeled so neatly.
Solomon had chosen the room for tea, a decision she still couldn’t understand, and the longer she stood there, the less at home she felt.
The pale walls reflected too much light.
The furniture was arranged for display rather than use, and the lace curtains filtered the day into something thin and distant.
Or maybe that was just because Emily and Philip had left. Probably.
Handmade doilies covered the side table. The room belonged to a world Nadia had never lived in and didn’t trust, and standing in it alone made her feel watched rather than welcomed.
She crossed to the table and poured from the antique china set, adjusting her grip when the weight pulled against her wrist. The movement sent a dull ache through her back and down into her hips, where the silver still lingered in her system.
Yeah, Bulwark had stabbed her with a silver knife, intending to kill her. Now she had to have tea with him.
Unreal.
She shifted her stance and finished pouring, setting the pot down carefully before straightening. The silver should be out of her system in a couple more weeks.
The first knock came sharp and sudden, cutting cleanly through her thoughts.
When the door opened, Bulwark McGregor stepped inside, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on her.
Her spine stiffened. He shut the door behind him, and the air seemed to thicken as he moved closer, his presence filling the space.
“You look well.” He rested one hand on the back of the brocade chair across from her.
“You look like a mistake that keeps repeating,” she replied, her tone even.
His mouth curved. “I enjoy your fire.”
She gestured to his chair and then took her seat, keeping her movements measured and precise. For a brief moment, a darker thought surfaced. She became aware of the space between them. What if she just sliced his neck? What a shock it would be to the pack if she killed all five challengers.
Yeah, that made her smile.
Violence had never been where she crossed lines, and she knew that hadn’t changed, no matter how much pressure surrounded her.
“You have a pretty smile,” he said.
“I want you dead.”
He reached for the cup and drank it down without hesitation. “I believe I apologized for stabbing you.”
“You stabbed a female in the back, Bulwark. That makes you the worst kind of coward.”
“I was hired to do a job. It was necessary,” he said, apparently unconcerned. “Turned out it’s a good thing you lived. Everything worked out.”
She studied him for a moment before tilting her head, taking in the ease with which he spoke. No way would she let this guy win. Not just for herself, but for the entire pack. He lacked a moral compass. Yeah, she needed to dig into his head. “What happened between you and Caidrik?”
His gaze sharpened. “Don’t worry about Caidrik. My brother will soon be dead.”
“Half-brother,” she corrected. “You’re built the same and definitely look alike. Why are you willing to kill each other?”
Bulwark set the cup onto the saucer with a sharp clatter. “None of your business. Learn your place now. Life will be easier for you.”
Stabbing him held even more appeal for her. She lifted her own cup and took a sip, letting the soft flavor steady her breathing and smooth the edge of her nerves. The tea grounded her and kept her present. “I hate you,” she said. “You hate me. You already have a pack. Go do your own thing.”
“This is my thing,” he replied. “My pack isn’t large enough, and we don’t have the resources of the Slate Pack. This pack is wealthy. Very. I want the money, and I will win. Accept that. If you don’t, next time I won’t miss with the knife.”
She blinked, her body going cold. The silver slugged through her veins. He’d just threatened to kill her.
He shoved the chair back and walked out, the door closing behind him and leaving the house in heavy silence.
A moment later, Solomon entered and quietly replaced the cup and saucer, his movements careful. “You’re doing well,” he said softly.
Nadia kept her gaze on the table, her hands still, and said nothing.
Luca Cross entered through the door wearing a smile that belonged on a politician, or possibly a conman. The difference between the two males was obvious. His charm settled easily over him, practiced and polished, and once again she found herself responding to it.
“Nadia.” He inclined his head. “I have to admit, these customs of your people are…odd.”
“You’re not kidding.” She gestured to the seat across from her. She still couldn’t believe this was her reality now. “Please, have a seat.”
He did, and his body appeared relaxed. “You’re handling this with impressive grace.”
She poured his tea without looking at him. “Grace is just panic with good posture.”
He laughed softly. “I would never force you to do anything. You deserve time and choice.”
She lifted her gaze to meet his. “Yet you didn’t deny the trophy.”
He lifted one shoulder. “Because I intend to win, and when I do, I intend to earn you.” He leaned toward her. “There’s no time requirement, is there? Once an Alpha is named, he doesn’t have to mate the trophy right away.” He winced as he said the word.
She had to give him that. The word made her want to wince as well. “I don’t think there’s a time requirement.” As a point, it was a good one.
“Well then, there you have it. I’ll win the Alpha position, and I’ll court you. If our relationship doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. If it does, that would be fantastic.”
“Okay,” she said, surprised by how easily the word came. She could appreciate his honesty.
He looked her over more carefully. “However, I do want to make sure this is legitimate. You’re the rightful heir. Is there no chance you want to be the Alpha?”
“There’s no way,” she said. “I grew up a farmer, not a fighter.”
“Ah. Fair enough.” He rolled his neck and then stood. “Well, we’ve done this. I’d really like to move on to the challenges.” He gave a half bow, turned, and walked out.
She looked down at his untouched tea. “All right. Good enough.”
Solomon rushed in immediately, his frown deep and unmistakably disapproving. “He didn’t drink the tea. It’s huckleberry. We have limited resources, and that’s the good stuff.”
Nadia’s mouth fell open as she turned to look up at him. “Seriously?” Her entire life was on the line. The pack could be in trouble, and he was worried about tea?
Solomon faltered. “I’m taking my job as librarian seriously. The position is listed in the grimoire. That’s important.”
She sipped her tea. “You’re an interesting fellow, Solomon.”
He straightened his tie. “Thank you. It’s kind of you to notice.” He removed Luca’s cup and saucer.
Next arrived Dax Moontel, who kept adjusting his black vest as he entered. “This is stupid.”
She couldn’t help the amusement that swept through her. “I could not agree more.”
Frowning, he crossed the room and sat, sniffing. “Please tell me there’s bourbon in there.”
“Sorry, but no.” She sipped again.
“Fine.” Shrugging, he lifted the cup and downed the contents. “Hmm. Fruity.” Then he sat back, placing the cup on the tablecloth and not on the saucer. “I figure the trophy has a say in all of this, somehow. Why don’t we make an agreement?”
Curiosity had her pausing with her cup next to her mouth. “Go on.”
“Agree to mate me, and let’s get it done. Like tonight. Then I’ll bring in my soldiers, and we’ll make this the most successful era for the Slate Pack.” He smiled again, showing twin dimples. “I’ll shower you with jewels and give you as many children as you’d like. You’ll never have to work again.”
She liked working. Plus, that would break the rules, and apparently this pack was all about rules.
He winked. “Just think about it.”
Solomon leaned his head through the doorway. “I’m sorry but everyone would have to agree. All of the challengers as well as the two of you.”
Somebody was eavesdropping.
“I see. It was worth a shot.” Standing, Dax turned and strode out, leaving the faintest scent of musk in his wake. The expensive kind.
Solomon quickly switched out the tea cups again.
Isaac Pembroke entered next, his broad shoulders nearly blocking the doorway. He bowed, formal and restrained. “Ms. Nightsom.”
Actually, her last name was Hodge, but she could understand the confusion. “You can call me Nadia.” She poured his tea. If this all fell apart, maybe she could get a job as a barista somewhere.
“Then you can call me Isaac,” he replied, taking a seat. He didn’t smile, but he did drink the tea. One of his dark eyebrows rose. “What is that? Blueberry?”