Page 15 of The Blood Queen

“Networks exist not even alphas know about.”

I leaned back. “Where’s your home pack?”

“Far from here.”

“Your alpha?” I prompted.

“He died.”

“You have my sympathies.”

Flames in the fireplace popped, drawing her attention. When she refocused on me, pain still flickered in her uncovered eye—a hazel-colored eye, reminding me of the woods and shadowed places. The color of Noa’s eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, one shoulder lifting with a gesture I’d seen Noa make many times.

“Did your alpha have any other family?” I asked blandly. “Someone who could take his place?”

“They’re all gone.”

“All?”

“Yes.” Her smile sliced. “And you’re a dread lord. Our pups read fanciful stories about alphas like you. Juiced up weapons.”

My smile mocked. “Thank you for noticing. How long have you been saving stray dogs, hoping they’ll have better lives?”

A challenge sparkled in her one eye, more life—excitement—than I’d seen from her since she divested herself of weapons. I wondered where she’d hidden her backup, because I doubted that she went anywhere unarmed.

“Eight years,” she said. “Not as many years as you, saving all your stray dogs.” A faint laugh when I scowled. “It’s what we both do, in different ways. Alphas are protective, guardians by nature—at least the alphas I’ve known. But you…” She traced a small circle on the table. “I think you’ve become jaded.”

My jaw flexed. “You’ve never been frustrated?” Frustrated, angry. Fighting an enemy I couldn’t find. Corrupted wolves who killed indiscriminately. Fools who wandered through the forests at night.

Who was she, to judge from her mercenary life? Where she made the rules and walked away from obligation?

“Frustration is born out of failure,” she said. “But failure is a consequence of leadership. We all fail.” That circle again, drawn with deliberation, as if she was making some point. “The strong can stride through it. I’d heard such rumors about you.”

“How many hybrids have you killed?” I countered, although I hadn’t missed her choice of words. We all…

“None,” she said.

“Talk to me when you have.”

“I’d hoped to never see a hybrid, let alone fight one. The message from Jodan said you were a friend who offered safe passage. Has the friend part changed?”

“The world has changed. You’re lucky we got to you first tonight.”

She nodded, refusing to look away or dip her chin before she pushed to her feet—another movement that reminded me of Noa.

Perhaps I was tired, seeing my mate in her mannerisms.

But her gaze had gone to the wall covered with weapons. A collection made over centuries. Battered and covered with dust. Swords, knives. Crossbows and spears. Wooden shields with the ancient alpha markings; a blue field with a white slash, two fighting wolves, a slashing claw mark. A band of stars—Cariboo—seldom seen, and no longer used.

“Quite the arsenal.” Her gaze skewered me with that meaning I wasn’t getting. “I suppose it makes a pretty decoration—the weapons you don’t use.”

“If you like that sort of thing,” I said.

“Is it true you know a faille?”

“There’s a guard outside the door. He’ll take you to the barracks. Don’t leave.”

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