Chapter Eight
The dusty air filled my lungs, musty and thick, coating my throat until all I could taste was the stale stench of stagnancy. My foot wanted to tap, my knee wanted to bounce - anything to distract from the needless drivel being spouted in the cramped library.
But I stayed still, counting down the seconds until I was finally free.
I should have been listening, analysing and locking each word away for future use. I managed that for the first hour but as the nonsense wore on, so did my patience.
They used time like an unlimited resource, always there to draw on without the threat of consequences. Decisions were poured over, relentlessly debated, each voice fighting to have their say even if it meant obviously ridiculous solutions.
I dreaded to see how they would respond in a real crisis when they didn't have the luxury of their endless time.
I could picture them hesitating, contemplating whether to dodge left or lunge right in a fight. They would call for a unanimous vote to determine where a limited supply of medicine should be used or how food should be divided when storms raged without an end in sight.
Dax didn't hesitate to join the fight against the rogues, his wolf diving in head first to protect his pack.
I shook the thought from my head, forcing my attention back to the dithering Alphas.
They would never make the hard calls. Not when they could cling to the self-righteous idea that they had to be prioritised — to stay strong so they could lead.
I felt sick.
The final nod and wave of thank yous was all the cue I needed to murmur my own and slip from the cramped room before I could get caught.
Not that anyone here was running to have a conversation with me.
Talia was waiting outside, her arm wrapping around mine before I could fully recognise her presence. She started down a hallway, weaving through a practiced pattern I didn't know but didn't need to question.
"Fresh air," I breathed, a sigh of relief relaxing the tension winding through my shoulders.
"I figured you'd need it," Talia said, allowing a warm smile to thaw the icy facade she maintained within the Council house. "You've spent the entire day holed up in meals and meetings. I've never seen you inside for so long."
My eyes fell closed as the gentle breeze washed over me. "I've never known wolves to be okay with it."
"They do seem..." Talia trailed off as she strolled towards the treeline, searching for a diplomatic phrase. "...to have a different connection to their wolves."
"That's very political of you," I complimented, raising an eyebrow at her and fighting a smile at the soft huff of laughter she gave in return.
"What can I say? It's infectious." She gave a faux shiver and I couldn't deny the mutual disdain.
The soft hum of the wind and lilting chirping of birds filled the air, a harmonious song disturbed by an odd rustling that had me stepping a half pace in front of Talia.
Then I saw him.
Lounging on a thick, low-hanging branch, one leg bent at the knee and the other dangling just above my eyeline. In suit slacks, dress shoes and a half open shirt, he looked awkwardly out of place lounging in a tree but as he leaned over with a predatory grin, the ambush seemed perfectly natural.
"What a pleasant surprise," he purred, crimson eyes flashing with glee as the knife fell and he snatched it from the air without a glance. "I love when trouble finds me, makes it so much easier."
The vampire from breakfast. Lucien.
"I prefer when trouble stays in a tree," Talia answered, her arctic mask back in place after her initial moment of shock at the intruder.
"Now where's the fun in that?" he asked, swinging his other leg over and dropping down to the ground in front of us in a blink.
"Back in the tree."
His laugh held a razor's edge as he grinned at my comment, canines glinting as sharp as the knife he held.
"You wound me, Snow Queen," Lucien said, pressing his hand against his still heart as his eyes softened with a teasing pout.
"Tell me that's not catching on." Had Talia let her mask drop, her words would have been exasperatedly pleading but she held her guard up against the charming vampire.
"Oh I'm planning a full branding roll out." Lucien gave us a wicked grin, tossing the knife up once again. "Hats, t-shirts, action figures. What do you think of 'may cause frostbite' for the tagline?"
A smile twitched at my lips but I held it down. Lucien's attention bounced between us, half-focused on the knife spinning lazily through his fingers. Talia shot me a look, daring me not to crack.
"A bit literal, don't you think?" I asked and he waved the knife back and forth as he thought about it.
"I don't think so," he said, the long side of his hair falling over his shoulder as he tipped his head to the side. "I've heard frostbite can be dangerous."
The challenge twinkled in his eyes and I wanted to play but I knew I couldn't risk letting my walls down, not with a vampire who likely had decades of tangled alliances built up among the Council.
Talia wasn't so hesitant.
"She could out-throw you any day," Talia bragged, her eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly, a subtle sign of her hackles rising at the perceived threat to her pack.
Lucien's eyebrows raised, a smile spreading languidly across his face. "Is that so?"
He flicked the knife back and forth, the blade dipping and spinning before holding it out for me.
I hesitated.
I could refuse, hold my dignity and show I could rise above a little petty challenge.
Or, I could live up to the expectations of my pack, show my pride in my people and hold my own.
One was much more fun than the other.
I took the knife from him, tilting it in my hand to test the weight and the balance. He nodded through the trees to a target crudely carved in a trunk just far away enough for it to be a test.
"Loser buys drinks?" He suggested, the humour dancing with mischief though the smile didn't quite reach the blood-red eyes.
"I don't drink." Any alcohol that was strong enough to affect a werewolf was too strong to allow me to keep my senses and that was a risk I couldn't take.
"Well that's no fun." Lucien wrinkled his nose, a small frown tugging at his predatorily handsome face before something else filled his eyes, something darker. "Winner's choice then. Maybe...a favour?"
A favour. From a vampire. Dangerous — but being owed one, especially by someone with Council ties, was an opportunity.
I didn't answer, letting my eyes zone in on the centre of the target, one icy breath flowing from my lungs.
I threw.
One spin.
Two.
The blade sliced the bullseye with a solid thunk.
Lucien gave a low whistle, nodding in appreciation. "I should've guessed your aim would be just as sharp as the rest of you."
He was gone in a flash, zipping through the trees to grab the knife and reappearing in line with me. The teasing grin dropped as he focused and then the blade was gone, flying through the air and lodging just an eighth of an inch away from the stabbing mark of my throw.
I couldn't help but wonder whether that was the intended target.
"I told you," Talia piped up, her voice a lilting sing-song as her eyes shone with pride.
Lucien raised his hands, his head falling into a respectful bow towards me. "Fair's fair, Snow Queen. What'll it be? My vote? My dignity?" His voice dropped, eyes darkening. "My soul?"
I shrugged with a single shoulder. "You can keep your soul. My collection is overflowing anyway."
I didn't expect the belly laugh to come from Lucien, a round, open sound that seemed to pull the tension that bit at that spot between my shoulder blades.
"You're good," he said, giving me a wink. "You can throw but you don't let them throw you either. They weren't expecting that."
It was as though he'd thrown the knife directly in my chest, the blade slicing through the defenses I'd so carefully built. Out of everyone I expected to give me a compliment, he fell towards the bottom of the list.
The knife flipped across his hand, the thin blade weaving around his fingers and he looked up at me through thick lashes. "They see you as a threat. That's good. They will tear you apart if they think you're weak. They'll only try if they think you're dangerous."
I wanted to narrow my eyes, to dig into his soul and understand what he was truly thinking underneath the suspiciously sincere tone of his voice.
"My bark's not nearly as strong as my bite," I answered instead, voice steady as I watched him. "Or my frostbite."
Maybe throwing him a bone was reckless.
Maybe trusting a vampire, even at arm's length, was dangerous.
But dangerous didn't mean stupid.
And keeping him in reach was better than having him in my blind spot.
Lucien's smirk was slow, knowing. He flicked his knife as he strolled away, giving a wink and a gentlemanly nod to Talia as he passed. He was passing the treeline, silhouetted behind the dipping sun when he looked over his shoulder.
"If you ever need some extra bite," he called, voice slick and smooth, "mine's pretty vicious too."
Oh Lucien, you tricksy little vampire.
Has Kiera made a friend? An ally? Or just a charming enemy?