Chapter Twenty Four （Part 1）
The summons came late at night after a day full of dreary meetings. It was clipped and sharp, a professionalism that welcomed no questions, just compliance.
A diplomatic mission to neutral territory. A pack of shifters who were asking questions now that rogue wolves were running amok across the country. It was to keep the peace, or so they said.
I wasn't sure why they insisted that I attend. Whether I was being sent as a representative or a message.
When we all gathered in front of the Council house, the moon was still in the sky, slowly fading in the budding light of a summer dawn. The SUVs sat out front, polished black reflecting the warm golden glow of the porch lights.
The collar itched like always. But this time, it wasn't just pressure, it was branding. A reminder. A message meant to be seen.
Lyra was sidled up to Dax, an optimistic sweetness painted on her face.
There was no reason for her to be there.
It had been made abundantly clear that she wasn't a part of the envoy.
Technically, she wasn't a representative for any pack and sending someone who held no real authority would be taken as a slight.
But here she was anyway.
Her head was bent close to Dax, tilted up as she fluttered her lashes and they whispered together. I couldn't hear what they said but I didn't miss how her eyes flickered towards me more than once.
"Looks like they're sending all the misfits," Lucien said in my ear as he appeared behind me in the blink of an eye.
I managed not to jump.
He was all dark elegance and razor sharp amusement with a crisp, black shirt that had the top buttons undone that showed the layered necklaces he wore underneath. Even in the minimal light, he still wore a pair of dark sunglasses that hid his shining, crimson eyes.
"What a creative punishment," I answered, giving him a sideways look as his arm brushed my shoulder.
His dark, hushed chuckle drew Dax's eyes to us. With a last whisper, he turned from Lyra and approached us, his expression unreadable.
"Ready?"
Not even close.
I gave a single nod anyway.
Dax headed towards the leading car and I followed, taking a seat beside Lucien in the back.
Lyra wore calm like a mask, but her eyes tracked me like a thorn she couldn't dig out. Her distaste for the situation wasn't hidden as well as she hoped but also couldn't blame her. If the roles were reversed, I would have been pissed off too.
The engine roared to life and we were off, the pack fading in the distance. The hum of tires on the old roads filled the silence of the SUV. Trees blurred past the windows as the darkness gradually dimmed and I wasn't sure whether the freedom was light or suffocating.
"I think he hates me," Lucien muttered as he leaned in closer to me.
He was stretched out as much as he could be in the back seat of a car, one leg crossed lazily over his knee as he fiddled with a throwing knife.
Typical Lucien.
"That's not new information." I didn't look away from the window.
"Ah, but it's getting worse. Like a fine wine - or a festering wound," he quipped as he flicked the knife around his fingers. "I wonder why."
I rolled my eyes but had to fight off a smirk that twitched the corners of my lips. "Maybe it's because you don't shut up."
"Maybe," he hummed, turning his head so I could feel his breath against the shell of my ear as he pitched his voice up just enough to be heard. "Or maybe it's because I can make you smile."
I didn't answer but my eyes shifted to the rearview mirror. Dax's dark eyes were a dull amber. He was silent but composed. Tight. Coiled.
Lucien grinned like he'd just pulled a winning hand.
"I think he's mad you're sitting back here with me," Lucien purred. "We shouldn't let him see us play footsie."
Dax's hands flexed on the steering wheel, his knuckles getting white. I thought Lucien might burst with joy.
"Must be hard, all this pretending."
I turned to face Lucien, keeping my face straight even as the tip of my nose brushed his.
"I'm not pretending," I said coolly, staring down his smirk. "I really do find you irritating."
"And yet you're not moving away."
"Because we're in a moving car. Or would you prefer I push you out of it?"
Lucien chuckled, dark and silky.
I caught Dax's eyes in the rearview mirror, the amber flaring. There was no smile, no words. Just a twitch of his jaw and a tightening grip on the steering wheel.
I turned my head, creating some distance between myself and Lucien as my heart thumped loudly in my ears.
A low rumble of Dax's voice came through the front. "Enough, Lucien."
It wasn't a command. It wasn't jealousy, either. Just tired. And something else I couldn't place—maybe he was as sick of the games as I was.
I leaned back against the seat and Lucien mirrored with a triumphant smirk.
The trip was far too long, punctuated by the occasional banter with Lucien and long stretches of suffocating silence. The terrain shifted through woody forests to barren plains until we reached lush, deep green trees covering murky swamp.
It was shadowed and wild. Even the wind moved differently, as though it was warning intruders. Maybe it was a warning I should have listened to. Panthera shifters never ventured so far north for a reason.
They were waiting for us at the border. The strange scent of damp earth laced with wild jasmine and the dusky, metallic tang of blood washed from decaying wood was palpable, almost shimmering in the humid breeze to show the outline of their territory.
She stood tall, graceful and lithe with olive-brown skin and sleek, black hair pushed behind her shoulders in a shiny curtain. The air around her felt charged like the moment right before a predator pounced as she stood still.
Much too still.
Her juniper eyes were flecked with gold, watching with unabashed curiosity as both cars emptied. Two others stood on either side of her, slightly behind as they made their hierarchy clear.
"Welcome," she said as she took a step forward, her movements lazy and slow but deliberate, like someone with the confidence to kill. "My name is Valentina, First Fang of the Evernight Shadow."