Page 10 of Savage Trap

He laughs, his gaze sweeping over Link and Rory, who have ignored the food and are standing at my shoulder like silent sentinels. A quick glance reassures me that Cam is at the buffet table with both Kelly and Nate. When I glance back, the Alpha of Maine doesn’t seem concerned by my lapse in attention. If anything, his smile deepens. “Well, I was relieved to hear you made it safely out of New York. I met your mom a few times when she was still living in Boston and I enjoyed our conversations very much.”

I blink, eager to hear more, but before I can ask, another alpha steps up. This one is a completely different beast to Bill, and I don’t need the bio to place him. All of Bisha’s closest allies were either killed in the Tower or have gone into hiding, but then there are wolves like Henry Snider. He wasn’t powerful enough to run his own territory without Bisha’s blessing, but he’s rich. Disgustingly so. Which means he was kept out of the really dirty business, and for a hefty annual donation, allowed to still retain the title of alpha to the packs of southern Connecticut.

He's in his late thirties; good-looking, entitled, and not particularly bright. He inherited both his wealth and his position from his dad, and according to Link, has been slowly losing his grip on both since we dismantled Bisha and his empire. Not that you’d know it from the way he looks me over. “Elvana. I remember first meeting you when I took over the Connecticut territories. You were a tiny little thing, all big eyes and blond curls, sitting on your dad’s knee…”

“Bisha’s knee,” I interrupt him. “And if that ever happened, I don’t remember it. He wasn’t an affectionate man.”

He gives me a condescending smile. “Oh, I think you’ve just forgotten. You were thick as thieves at one stage…”

“Again, that’s not how I remember things.” When he arches a sleek brow at me, I give him a close-lipped smile. It’s not quite a snarl, since I’m trying to be diplomatic, but I imagine I’m not fooling anyone but the idiot in front of me. “Just to be clear, Henry, Roan Bisha was never a father to me. I’m here in the capacity of Lucas Ferrier’s daughter and heir.”

He gives a shrug, his gaze moving slowly over my pack. “Well, if I knew we were going to bring our packs, I would have invited my own. My omega, David, is nearly as pretty as your prince.” He leaves me grinding my teeth as he slinks over to Kelly, who looks up from his plate, his eyes cautious. “I also had the pleasure of meeting your father when I was last in London. I’m very sorry for your loss, Kellman. Barkley was an impressive man.”

Kelly gives a smile even chillier than my own, but the third alpha, who’s sitting closest to the window and swirling something that looks like whiskey in a glass, makes a disgusted sound. “Shut up, Henry, or at least try to read the room before you open your mouth.”

Henry goes bright red. “Excuse me, Damian?”

“You’re not excused. If you can’t read the room, then do your homework, because not everyone grew up sailing boats in Greenwich with their dads.” He looks up at the red-faced man, his dark eyes narrowed. “Do you even know the rest of their pack?” He twists to look at my alphas. “Lincoln Hila. Rory Erikson. Cameron West. If you’d met their fathers, you’d know there’s a reason they’ve adopted a new pack name.”

He’s not wrong. None of our so-called fathers deserves the title. But just because he’s right doesn’t mean I know who this guy is…

Damian Loup. Link’s voice sounds grim as it slides through the bond. The Wolf of Washington. Runs the DC packs and has more political clout than any other territorial alpha, including your dad. And the reason you don’t have a bio on him is because he turned down the invitation.

I walk slowly over to the seated man, feeling the press of his wolf’s attention on my skin. Loup is an old and protected name in our world. Only bloodlines considered ‘pure’ are allowed to use it, which means the man in front of me can trace his ancestors back further than anyone I’ve ever met. It also suits him. Early forties, lean, and dark-skinned with shrewd black eyes, I doubt he has any issues slipping between his human and wolf forms.

“Why are you here, Alpha Loup? We thought you weren’t interested in joining the council.”

If he’s surprised I know his name, he doesn’t show it. “I said I wasn’t interested in scrapping the High Alpha position, Ms. Starling-Ferrier.”

I don’t bother to hide my cynical smile. “Because you think you’re the man for the job?”

He sets his glass down, every inch of his imposing presence turned my way. “Because a council won’t solve your problems.”

I know I should step back, let him have it out with my dad, or put his case forward in a formal forum later today, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that makes me want to push back. “But are we talking about the same problems? Because the previous High Alpha did nothing to address omega rights, blood feuds, or pack mismanagement. Mainly because, like many alphas with too much power and too little conscience, it wasn’t in his interests to do so.”

But instead of being insulted by the insinuation, he waves a dismissive hand. “They’re all things we can resolve, with or without a council. But the real issue, and the reason I’m here instead of tending to business in Washington, is because of one man.” I cock a brow at him, and he leans forward, his wolf in his eyes. “Arben Marku. Do you happen to know where he is, Ms. Starling-Ferrier?”

Elvi

“Isn’t that the question of the day,” I mutter as we walk into our suite half an hour later. I managed to swallow a few bites of French toast and half a cup of coffee, but mostly I spent the time avoiding the Wolf of Washington and his probing dark gaze. “How much do you think he knows?”

I’m asking everyone, but it’s Link we all look to, since he seems to have the lowdown on every shifter here. But instead of answering, he slips past us, gun out as he sweeps the suite for potential threats. I’ve learned to give him time to check things for himself, even though my dad’s security detail has already been through this morning. So, while he’s sweeping for bugs and checking under beds, I kick off my high-heeled boots and pad into the kitchen. Rory and Kelly head for the bathroom, but Cam follows me, his arms slipping around my waist as I lean against the counter.

Cam has always been a steady, cautious influence on our pack, but after what just happened on the plane, I realize his dominance runs deeper than I expected. And while I’m not a typical submissive omega, I get a thrill as he presses his lips over his bite mark. “You feel restless,” he murmurs against my skin. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm, well, we’ve only been here an hour, and I already want to go home.”

He turns me in his arms, backing me against the counter and planting a hand on either side of me. It means he can lean down a little, his eyes closer to mine. “We can leave. No one expects a newly mated pack to want to be around company. We can hand over to Lucas and catch the next flight out.”

I wrap my arms around his neck, liking the way I hang off him a little. He’s the biggest of my mates next to Arben, who’s a beast in his own category. But Cam is the kind of guy who the word stoic was made for, and I love coaxing out the playful side under his brick wall façade. “What I really want,” I tell him as I swing forward and place a kiss on the side of his neck, “is a massage.” I run my lips across his throat, his head dipping so I can suck on his pulse. “Getting railed on a plane is all well and good, but now I need a little aftercare. You think they have one of those fancy spas in this hotel?”

Cam makes a low growling sound as his hands slide to my hips, his fingers digging in. “You want a massage, I’ll give you a massage.” He rubs his thickening cock against me, sending another thrill down my spine. “Deep tissue? Hot stones? Trigger points?”

I’ve had all three from Cam, and each one was a blissful experience. “Whichever one turns me into a senseless pile of goo.”

I shiver as his fingers circle the dents above the waistband of my jeans. “Full-body massage with warm oils, then.” I grin at him, feeling better already, but he straightens as Link enters the room and sets his laptop up on the dining table. “There’s a pool deck on the roof, right?”

I perk up at that, and turn to Link, my cheeks pink. He flicks a look our way and nods. “Let me just check the area first.”

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