Page 10 of The Alpha's Pregnant Mate

“Yes, you were there, weren’t you?” Laurent glared at him, waiting until the trembling was more pronounced before he continued. “You were there, letting her give the orders, following her instructions. Did you speak in my defense? Did you remind anyone which Alpha you followed? Save your excuses,” he snapped as Reade’s mouth opened. “I have more important problems to deal with than your insubordination. Like this enemy pack’s determination to build their new home in the heart of our territory, almost on our doorstep.”

“Is that really such a bad idea?” Camus spoke up unexpectedly. His other lieutenant pressed on quickly, clearly wanting to say his piece before Laurent could cut him off. “I mean—Alpha, that battle last night, that was…you were there, you saw it yourself. We fought off twice as many demons with a quarter of the usual casualties. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have the other pack nearby, you know? Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have allies to call on.”

“Twice as many demons,” Laurent repeated, slowly and carefully, letting his anger distill coldly into every vowel and consonant. “A conservative estimate. I’d say it was closer to thrice the usual number. And so close to the most recent attack, too. Did that strike you as unusual?”

His lieutenants exchanged worried glances, and Laurent wondered if this moment of insubordination was something they’d discussed ahead of time, or something that had come up organically, an impulse they’d both chosen to follow. He wasn’t even sure which option would make him angrier.

“Well?”

“I hadn’t thought about it, Alpha.”

“You hadn’t thought about it,” he echoed. “Exactly. And why should you? It’s not your role to think about it. It’s your role to do as you’re told by your Alpha. But seeing as you’ve decided to step outside of that role, I think it’s only fair you do a little thinking. Go on. Explain the abnormality to me. Maybe you know better than I do. Maybe that child who just left here knows better than I do. I only trained as a lorekeeper for a decade, after all. I only studied demonkind under the greatest teachers our world has to offer.”

“I’m sorry, Alpha.” Camus looked utterly terrified. Laurent could feel a strange, cold feeling in his chest, as though his rage had burned so brightly that every last nerve ending had died, leaving nothing but an absence of feeling in its place. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t think—”

“Then let me think for you,” Laurent said, feeling his lips curl into an entirely joyless smile. “That is, after all, my job. Demons are attracted to strong emotion, to turmoil and disharmony. They feed on it. They grow stronger, bolder, more numerous and more powerful in its presence. That’s why I let those traitors go without a fight a year ago,” he said, feeling his shoulders tense with the indignity of the memory. “Because I knew that forcing them to remain in the interests of boosting our numbers would only do us more damage in the long run.”

“Are you saying—” Camus’s voice was hoarse.

“It’s an Alpha’s duty to keep hard truths from his pack when he can,” Laurent said coldly. “It’s part of the exchange of power. You don’t question me, I withhold unpleasant truths. But as you’re asking me, now…yes, Camus, I am saying that the traitors brought those demons with them. I’m not saying it was intentional,” he said quickly. “She may be foolish and impulsive, but I don’t believe Rhietta to be evil. Unfortunately, a lack of evil intent is not enough on its own to prevent one’s actions from causing evil.”

“If what you’re saying is true, then that means…” Reade’s expression was grim. Laurent nodded, holding himself back, wanting to hear his lieutenant say it in his own words. The man glanced at his fellow lieutenant, then sighed. “Then it’s best they move on sooner rather than later.”

“And the further they go, the better.” Camus’s voice came unwillingly from him, but his gaze was resolute when he looked at Laurent. “Shouldn’t have doubted you, Alpha. Foolish of me.”

“Of us both,” Reade agreed. Laurent nodded, holding back a little of the relief he felt from his face, his gratitude for how easy it had been to bring them back in line. If he started losing the loyalty of his pack now, what hope would there be for him? But there was no sense in getting soft with them now. That was Rhietta’s purview, not his. He dismissed the two of them, resolving to let them wallow a little in the discomfort of an unaccepted apology. And then he was alone again, finding his eyes straying to the window, to the thick tangle of jungle that lay beyond their fragile little bubble of peace.

Were Rhietta and her little band of traitors really drawing the demons closer? He couldn’t say for sure; nobody could. That was the maddening thing about being a lorekeeper, the disappointing truth he’d uncovered at the hallowed institution that had trained him—no matter how much you learned about magic, there were never any certain answers. That was why he’d never worn the robes of office, for all that most trained lorekeepers insisted on them as a badge of pride. All of that training couldn’t offer certainty.

But he could. And he knew with certainty that regardless of whether they were truly the ones drawing the demons closer, the best course of action for his pack was to get Rhietta and her wolves out of here as soon as possible.

Maybe with her gone, he’d finally start seeing things clearly again.

Chapter 7 - Rhietta

This was good, Rhietta kept telling herself as she headed back down the far-too-straight path that led through the middle of town to where her pack’s tents were pitched. This was progress. Sure, Laurent’s reaction to her best attempt at a formal apology had been downright unsettling, but maybe that was just how he processed things that surprised him. She’d surprised herself a little, if she was honest. She’d always hated her father’s lessons in that pompous, formal style of address he insisted that Alphas liked to use with each other. But she could see its value now that she’d been forced to call upon it. It had a kind of clarity; it enabled a precise kind of expression that focused drily on cause and effect, without getting bogged down in the emotions that Laurent clearly disapproved of so highly.

Well, for someone who didn’t like emotions, he certainly didn’t seem to have any shortage of anger. She huffed laughter to herself as she remembered the stiff, jagged way he’d stalked into the room when he’d realized she was talking to his lieutenants without him. Had he forgotten that she’d grown up around Reade and Camus? That they were basically like a pair of uncles to her? Had he just assumed she was trying to sway them over to her, that she was scheming to steal his pack out from under him? She didn’t envy them whatever grim conversation they were having with him right now. Even in the tropical heat of Ravil Island, she’d felt the temperature in that room drop below freezing as she’d stepped out of the door.

Still, some instinct kept troubling her for the rest of the day. Rhietta tried to keep herself busy, hoping to outpace the feeling that something was wrong. She helped patch the last of the holes in the tents and joined the pack’s joking little celebration of their triumph, then did a few laps of the village to make sure the last of the decomposing demon corpses had been swept cleanly away. As she walked, she kept a subtle eye on the interactions she observed between wolves, especially when she saw members of her pack talking with members of Laurent’s. After just a single circuit of the village, she was certain it wasn’t just wishful thinking on her part. Relations between the packs had definitely warmed since their arrival, especially over the last day or so. There was really nothing better than teaming up to defeat an old enemy together to remind a bunch of wolves that there was much more uniting them than had ever divided them.

She just wished Laurent was more willing to see that. The worry kept prickling at her as the afternoon wore on, and she found herself wandering up to his house under the pretense of paying a visit to the two families who were staying there. She knew the babies were doing much better now, with Anik’s cough all but gone and her spirits high, but there was nothing wrong with making sure, right? Truly, part of her was hoping she’d run into Reade or Camus, that she might be able to check in about Laurent’s mood, but the only member of Laurent’s pack present was Seff, who gave her an apologetic look from his post at the bottom of the staircase, body very deliberately blocking the way up. Point made, she thought as she moved past. Laurent wasn’t entertaining visitors at the moment. Fine by her.

Visiting with Cadia and Rovell boosted her spirits, at least. There was absolutely no bad mood in the world that wouldn’t be lifted by even a few minutes with a smiling baby in your arms, and Anik’s cheeky grin had restored her faith in the world about two seconds after her father had plopped her into Rhietta’s lap. By the time she headed back down toward camp just after nightfall, she felt like her old self again. Let Laurent be a sour old man all he liked. She had an inexhaustible well of joy in her heart, and it was going to take more than his crappy attitude to drain it.

But she should have known better than to ignore her instincts. The pack had just finished dinner when she saw a familiar silhouette approaching across the grass. It was Seff, and one look at his stricken face in the firelight made her heart sink back down into her feet, where it had been trying to drift all afternoon. Wordlessly, she led him a short distance away from the pack, that same grim instinct of doom telling her that it was best she hear whatever news he was bringing them out of earshot for now.

“I bring word from Alpha Laurent,” he said, and she could tell immediately that he’d rehearsed this statement several times - most likely in front of a judgmental Laurent, judging from the tension in his shoulders and the way he was fighting to stop his voice from shaking. “The message contains two—parts. Um. Firstly, that your request to settle your pack on the specified hill north of our settlement is formally and categorically denied. Secondly, that he requests, uh, a precise time of departure for you and your pack, and that…”

“And that?” she prompted, not liking the cold feeling that had settled into her belly. “Seff? That isn’t the end of the message, is it?”

The young wolf cleared his throat. “Um. And that—your presence here is a liability and an ongoing threat to the safety of us all,” he said rapidly, rushing so quickly through the sentence that it sounded like one long word. But Rhietta didn’t miss his meaning.

“I see,” she said quietly, looking out into the darkness for a long moment as she let herself process the message. “How interesting. Thank you, Seff, for bringing this to me. I know it’s not your fault,” she added, flashing him a quick smile. It didn’t seem to do much to alleviate his concern; he nodded slowly, face still pale and drawn, and lingered awkwardly there in the gathering gloom. “Yes?”

“He, um. He told me not to—I mean, he said I should wait until you’d, uh, answered. About when your pack will be leaving. Like, which day, and what time. Sorry. He was—emphatic.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t give a very clear answer to that, Seff, because I’ve been asked about seven seconds after learning that we’re not permitted to go where I’d been intending to take us. You understand my dilemma, yes? I’m certain your Alpha does,” she added darkly, feeling a thick, wicked rage bubbling abruptly up her chest. All of a sudden, she was furious with him. Properly furious, too, not just the passing gusts of frustration that came and went. There was something heady about this feeling, something viscous and cloying; it was almost pleasurable, in a dark kind of way. It was the kind of anger she knew it was dangerous to give in to, but at the same time, it was so very seductive. What was the harm, really, in letting herself really feel it? After all, Laurent was the expert in crushing down his feelings, and look where that had gotten him. That wasn’t the kind of leader she wanted to be—that wasn’t the kind of person she wanted to be. And it wasn’t like what she was feeling was petty or unjustified. It was the most natural response in the world to being informed, a scant twenty-four hours after her pack had risked life and limb to defend this village, that their presence would no longer be tolerated—not even an hour’s travel from here.

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