Page 107 of Wolf's Gambit

“She has always been at home here.” The shaman chuckled as he took his own seat. “I do not know you well, but you may sit. No harm will come to anyone while in my walls.” He was looking at Royce, and with a simple nod from his alpha, Royce took the remaining chair.

I heard the shaman mutter gently, and then I felt the privacy spell as he sealed us inside.

“You forgot Bale?” I broke the silence.

“Most do forget your pack leader,” Cannon said with a dismissive snort. He was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, his hands at ease over his abs.

He couldn’t be sending a more relaxed fuck you to my brother if he tried.

“Will you show some respect?” I hissed at him. “We’re not in your packlands now.”

His gaze settled on mine, and I looked away from his heavy stare. Unnerved. I hated when he looked at me like he could see every secret I ever had.

“Well, pup, you managed to get yourself in a bind again,” the shaman spoke, and I saw, with some small satisfaction, when Cannon’s nose wrinkled in distaste. “I am two hundred and ten years old, Alpha…you are all pups to me,” he added with a sly grin.

“Cannon means wolf cub,” I blurted out.

I felt four pairs of eyes on me. Well, not the shaman’s, but had he still had his full sight, I was sure they would mirror the other three’s varying looks of intrigue or, in my brother’s case, shock.

“You been looking me up, Zia?”

“Her name is Kezia,” Kris bit out. “Or have you forgotten her already?” he sneered as he looked Cannon over. Cannon merely grinned at my brother’s veiled insult, but I felt a wash of shame sweep over me.

“She told me she prefers Zia,” Cannon replied lazily. He licked his bottom lip as he held my brother’s stare. “And I remember her very well.”

“Enough,” Royce spoke to them both, his look hard. “Kezia.” He glanced at me, his gaze sympathetic. “I apologize for my Alpha’s disrespect.”

Kris went to speak, but I spoke over him, “Royce, you are a true beta, difficult when one’s alpha is such a monumental prick. Thank you.” I inclined my head in respect.

Cannon grinned wider at me, but he turned to the shaman. “She comes with me,” he told him bluntly.

“She stays here,” Kris growled. “She’s my sister.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Cannon told him pleasantly. “She was in my custody and is dangerous.” He looked at me. “Plus, she’s mine.”

I was?

Hell to the no.

“I am not yours. I am not anyone’s,” I snapped. I ignored them all as I looked at the shaman. “I am in control,” I told him quietly.

The old male raised his head as voices broke around me. “Quiet,” he told them. “Come here,” he asked me.

Nervously, I got to my feet and crossed the floor to the shaman. Habit made my moves smooth as I extended a claw and opened my wrist. I ignored the murmur of protest from Royce. Holding up my wrist, I took the bowl from the table beside the shaman, and I let my blood drop into it.

“Behind you,” he murmured. Half turning, I refused to make eye contact with anyone while I grabbed the small pouch. “Half a pinch will do,” he told me.

When I had blended the herbs with my blood, I raised the bowl to him. He sniffed once. A quick dip of his finger, and he tasted my blood. With a frown, he held out his hand, and I put my hand in his.

I heard a scuffle behind me as the shaman dipped his head, and his tongue flicked out over my wrist. Nodding, he sat back.

“Thank you, pup.”

Only when I was back in my seat did I raise my head and was blasted with a look of pure rage from Cannon. Royce was at his side, his hands firmly on his alpha’s shoulders. Had he been holding him in place?

Kris reached out and took my hand, squeezing it lightly as my wound healed.

“The wolf is very angry,” the shaman told me with a faint smile. He turned toward Cannon. “Kezia holds control. Your fear is warranted, but in this instance, unneeded.”

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