Chapter 34 #2
Thorn and Drabek are wary of the future.
Aramis had said that days ago, and Eldrick’s reeling mind snagged on the information.
“Why did she sign it?” he asked.
Sam rolled roasted rutabaga across his plate. “My father got to her last, strategically. It was five against one at that point, and if she didn’t, she lost her Earl vote.”
Bétar hummed. “Is she a guaranteed Drengr vote, then?”
“I think so, and Alland and Lindstrom will follow her lead. You have one advantage, Eldrick. The Drengrs sit between the three packs to the north—Skau, Johannes, and Thorn—and the three packs to the south—Drabek, Alland, and Lindstrom. My father controls the north . . .”
Realization spread through Eldrick. “But that’s three votes, while if I win the south, that’s four including mine.”
“Precisely,” Sam said. “My suggestion? Visit Drabek first. She has the balls to stand up to Bjorn.”
“Perhaps her lack of balls makes her stronger than the rest of the alphas,” Bétar said.
Sam laughed. “I suppose you’re right. Her wife is fierce, too. They’ll be helpful allies in the coming weeks. The sooner you meet with them, the better.”
“Sounds like a fine plan to me,” Bétar said.
Eldrick nodded, forcing a small smile. “Indeed. Thank you, Sam, for not following me.”
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I owe you my life, to be honest. You all saved me in Drystan, and I’ll not easily forget your honor and duty.”
Duty.
The word crept up Eldrick’s spine like a pesky critter.
He flexed his hand, where the alpha tattoo shimmered.
The onset of a headache bloomed through his whirling mind.
Sam had offered valuable information, and he felt indebted to the young werewolf who’d risked himself to seek him out, but his fingers itched, craving the feel of an axe in his hand, to experience the leather molding under his grip.
He tasted battle on his tongue, and out of his peripherals, the mirage of a certain white-haired queen fighting at his side.
His wolf howled at the thought, like his inner beast yearned for that and not this.
Discussions. Words. Politics.
He was back in his office before he set out for Drystan, discussing the missing werewolves with Claus.
It felt like a different life, a different him.
He’d wished for the alpha title like a starving man begged for water, and yet, now that he had it, it was like wearing a shoe two sizes too small. Equally uncomfortable as unfitting.
But his place was here, even if he didn’t like it.
Fate had presented this path since his first breath, and with his parents’ absence, he understood sacrifice, inhaled it like his blood needed it to push forward.
He’d trained for this. His father believed in him enough.
No, it wasn’t a battlefield and his heart ached with loneliness, but it was a part of the war to come.
But what sort of alpha did he want to be? Eldrick’s inner wolf grunted, agreement flushing through him. Yes, he had a duty and a vote to win, but Eldrick refused to lose himself in this game. He’d not stoop to Bjorn’s level—he doubted his father would respect him if he did, too.
He sighed, spying the bruises near Sam’s neck again, like someone had gripped the young werewolf’s throat and squeezed.
His insides twisted while his wolf bared its teeth.
He chose his next words carefully. “If you want to leave the Johannes Pack, there is a place for you here, Sam. I could use a werewolf as observant.”
Bétar nudged Eldrick’s shoulder. “Aye, don’t poach the young talent. I have a team I need to rebuild, ya know.”
Sam blinked. Swallowed. Shifted in his seat. “That offer means more than you know, but . . . I have someone at home who needs me.”
“Who?”
Sam rose from his seat. “My younger brother. He’s a scholar and rather brilliant at botany and less inclined to hold a weapon.”
“Why does that matter for a second born?” Bétar asked.
The hair on the back of Eldrick’s neck rose. “Because all Johannes know how to wield a blade.”
Sam’s jaw hardened. “I have my bruises because I protect my brother, and I’d rather it be me than him. I’m sure as one with brothers, you know what it’s like?”
The hearth crackled, and Eldrick huffed, his chest tightening at the thought of Lorkan and Kade. He gave Sam a curt nod. “I do.”
Sam headed to the door. “I appreciate you hearing me out, but if my sister notices I’ve been gone longer than an hour, my journey home will be hel.”
Eldrick rose with him and shook the young werewolf’s hand, grasping it with meaningful force. “I mean it—there’s a place in the Drengr Pack for you and your brother if you need.”
“Thank you,” Sam whispered, and a glint shone in his eyes. “I’ll remember.”
He headed for the door, but as he laid his hand on the doorknob, Bétar cleared his throat.
“How far would your father go to win the Earl vote?” the warrior asked.
“He’d kill for it,” Sam said without hesitation.
With that, he left, leaving Eldrick rooted to the stone, uncertain if he could play this game at all.