Page 26 of Savage Trap

A ripple of shock passes over the party, and I hold my breath as my dad studies the other alpha. I don’t have a bondlink with him, but I’m getting good at reading his face, and he looks pissed. But his response is calm and measured, like always. “Because we’re not in the business of empire building. We’re not the Europeans, Rawson. Trying to hold that many packs together with our differing needs and interests would make tyrants out of us.” His eyes narrow slightly. “And eventually, all tyrants are toppled.”

“You’re talking about the High Alpha.” Rawson makes a rude sound. “Bisha was a prick of the first order and got exactly what he deserved. But I’m not talking about tyranny. I’m talking about a merger.” Before my dad can respond, he steps back, waving a hand at the twins behind him. “These are my sons, Brock and Bryce. Both graduated from UGA, have impressive resumes, and are no slouches in a fight, either. Any pack would be happy to have them.”

I have to wonder how the twins feel about being described like high-end goods, but Rawson just puts his arms around their shoulders and faces my dad. “The best way to align our interests is to make sure we’re all after the same thing. Which is why I’m here to offer you one of my sons.”

My dad’s composure finally breaks. “What the hell are you talking about, Rawson?”

“The Starling-Ferriers.” He nods in the direction of my mates. “Make one of my boys part of your heir’s pack, and I’ll give you the east coast.”

My dad is right; what the hell? I’m not naïve enough to think this sort of shit doesn’t still happen – arranged matings for political gain were once the norm in shifter society. But out in the open like this, with all the other alphas on the east coast looking on? Not to mention the fact this is the first time my pack has heard about this offer – or laid eyes on the Atlanta twins.

“How could we turn down such a romantic offer?” I mutter, but when I turn to roll my eyes at Nate, he’s already halfway to the elevator, his scent a sour mist in the air. I stare after him, waiting for some sign that he’s okay, but he doesn’t look back. I’m thinking about going after him when the scent of entitled alpha fills my nose, and I’m suddenly surrounded by the Rawson twins. I cock a brow at them. “Can I help you?”

I’m not seriously offering, of course, but the twin on the left gives a smug nod. “Sure can. We’re thinking about going somewhere quieter to talk about this merger.”

I blink at them. Do things really fall into their laps this easily? “Well, you enjoy that. I’m going to have a drink with my pack.”

But as I go to step past them, they shadow me, closing my escape route. “We’re being nice here, Elvana,” the other twin says. “How hard can it be to give us an hour of your time?”

I can sense my pack watching us closely, Link’s shoulders twitching in a way that could be very bad for the twins, so I fold my arms and give them my most unimpressed look. “I think you’re under the mistaken impression we’re for sale. We’re not looking for new packmates, but if we were, they’d have better manners than to crash a private party.”

That gets them exchanging an amused look. “Because you guys are so civilized?” That’s the douche on the right, ducking close enough to whisper, “We’re not here for your pedigree, princess. We have that covered already. But if there’s going to be a pack who inherits the east coast, we’re going to be a part of it.”

I try to ignore the bitter twinge at them using Arben’s pet name for me and pull back enough to laugh in his face. “Wow. How can I turn down such an attractive offer?” It’s pretty much what I asked Nate, but unfortunately, it doesn’t send them running. Instead, they glare at me, because true to form, guys like this don’t enjoy being mocked. Which just tells me I’ve given them more attention than they deserve. “My dad will never go for this merger,” I tell them bluntly. “And beyond that, we have nothing in common, so stop wasting all our time.”

But instead of stomping away, they exchange another look, this one a lot darker and more calculating. “Oh, I think we have a few things in common,” the guy on the right says. “You were getting cozy in the corner here with Nate Leon a minute ago, right? You looking for info on him?” I’m too slow to hide the spark of anger in my eyes, and they both chuckle. “Oh, yeah, you should definitely come see him in his natural element.”

I want to bite my tongue, but I can’t help myself. “What does that mean?”

Their grins just grow, until the twin on the right says, “The thing about Nate, he gets himself into bad situations with bad people.”

“Makes poor choices,” the other twin adds. “Not that there are many good ones in the place he’s headed right now.”

I grind my teeth, but I’m on the hook and they know it. “Where is he?”

“Based on how he usually acts in situations like this, he’s headed downtown to a members-only alpha club. If you want to come along, we could get you in the door.”

No way, Cam shoots down the link, clearly reading my mind. This has a set-up written all over it.

He’s probably right, but Nate is worth at least an hour of my time, even if these assholes aren’t.

“Fine, but if this is just a bullshit excuse to have a merger chat, you’ll be the ones in a bad situation.” They raise their brows at me, but then my pack is at their backs, and the air is thick with the promise of violence. I give the twins a shrug. “Like you said, civilized isn’t really our thing.”

Nate

If life has taught me anything, it’s that right when a plan is proceeding smoothly in a calculated direction, an obstacle appears in your path. Usually, this isn’t an issue, since I’ve trained myself to expect setbacks and to work around them. But there are obstacles, and then there is the Alpha of Atlanta offering one of his sons up on a silver platter.

To my pack.

I grind my teeth, as annoyed with my own jealousy as I am with Rawson’s brazen move.

But when it comes to the Starling-Ferrier pack, I’m finding it increasingly difficult to hide how I feel. Which could be a problem if I don’t rein myself in. Obstacles and setbacks are one thing, but I’m arrogant enough to admit the only force that can truly derail my plans is myself.

And yet the further I get from the party – from them – the more my anxiety grows. There’s no point trying to distract myself with breathing or counting; all I can see is the Alpha of Atlanta’s smug face, and hear his confident voice ringing in my ears.

It’s such a typical Bart Rawson move, I’m not sure why I didn’t see it coming. I’m the perfect example of what that man is willing to do to advance himself, so why did I scurry away like a bug under the floorboards?

Get home.

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