Page 33 of Resurgence of the Pack

I balked. ‘That seems to be a common action.’ I told him quietly about Larsden getting killed – omitting by whom – and Ramsay stealing his laptop and handing it off to a mysterious ally before he also killed himself when he was questioned.

Maxwell looked grim. ‘I’ll go and see Roscoe in Liverpool. He needs to know about this.’

‘He needs to tread carefully. Voltaire is investigating the Domini too, although quietly. He said that if they know you’re gunning for them, you’ll be taken out. With the deaths of three Domini fire elementals, they’ll know you’re gunning for them.’

Maxwell nodded. ‘I know – we both do. Roscoe is being guarded by elementals who’ve all been questioned under runes so we know we can trust them. Until we can bring down a big gun, we’re just scurrying around like pigeons at a shooting.’

‘They’ve invited me to jointhem,’ I admitted. ‘I said no.’

The worry in his countenance intensified. ‘Fuck, Lucy. Then you’re not just a pigeon, you’re a prize stag with a bullseye painted right over you. Be careful.’

I smiled. ‘I’m not the deer, Maxwell, I’m the one carrying the gun – they just don’t know it yet.’

Chapter 18

The pack common room fell silent as Tristan and Greg walked in. Neither of them had shifted and both were starting to sport some interesting bruises.

‘What the heck?’ Daniella exclaimed, clucking over them. ‘You should shift,’ she told Tristan as she examined the slice where Greg had cut him. The wound had clotted but it was still red and raw, and the dried blood remained as a macabre reminder of the bloody battle the men had fought. And to think that essentially it had been a friendly!

‘I’m fine.’ Tristan shrugged, but his eyes were on Elliott.

‘Men,’ Daniella huffed under her breath, hands going to her hips. I met her gaze and gave an agreeing nod. Men!

My eyes moved on to Seren and Marissa. Seren was looking at Daniella, openly pissed off at her fussing over Tristan. I knew Seren was deliriously happy in her new relationship with Marissa, so I wasn’t sure what her issue was with Daniella. It certainlywasn’t jealousy; besides, Tristan was happily married to a seer.

The instant we’d walked in, Thomas Elliott had surged to his feet, fists clenched. ‘I challenge you to a tourney to the death,’ he snarled at Greg.

‘Too late,’ Tristan replied before Greg could. ‘I challenged Manners for his position as second. As such, under the new law laid down by our Queen, he cannot be challenged for another week.’

Elliott’s nostrils flared. ‘This is an outrage.’ He turned to me. ‘None of us ever stood a chance, did we, Lucy? You’d already made your choice when you arrived on my lands. Manners will be your mate.’ His breathing was heavy, his words harsh.

‘I have yet to claim my mate,’ I replied evenly.

He snorted. ‘That’s not what I saw on your fucking lawn.’

‘Speak to our Queen with some manners.’ Wakado’s voice was low and dangerous. ‘Or I’ll teach you some.’

‘I think she’s already got quite enoughmanners,’Elliott spat.

Wakado sent him an assassin’s smile. ‘Youhaven’t been challenged in a week, have you, Elliott?’

Elliott’s jaw clenched and for a moment he looked at the large man with hostility. Taking in his size, his anger fadedenough for common sense to assert itself. ‘I won’t forget this – any of it.’ He stalked out of the room.

‘Archie, Liam, make sure our guest leaves our lands with all his belongings,’ I ordered. They followed him out with matching grim expressions.

Tarkers gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Uninvited guests are the worst. Am I right?’

‘Well,’ a dry voice said from the corner, ‘I hope my invite still stands then.’ A man stood and made his way from where he’d been sprawled with some pups, including a giggling Bobby. He was a large man, almost seven feet in height and just as broad. I’d thought Wakado was huge but this guy made Wakado look small.

‘Richard Denby from Derby, my Queen,’ he introduced himself, sinking to one knee in front of me. Even on one knee, he was taller than some women I’d met. ‘I am truly honoured to make your acquaintance.’ His voice was full of fervent sincerity.

‘You’re more than welcome, Denby. Please, rise.’

When the monolithic man stood up, his head was barely a foot from the ceiling. This was Kearns’ alpha? I spotted the speaker of the Council sitting primly to one side; you wouldn’t catch him sprawled on the floor with the kids.

‘If it pleases you, my Queen,’ Denby said mildly, ‘my friends call me Debbie. I would be honoured for you to address me so.’

I grinned. ‘So I’d heard. Tarkers here has been filling me in.’

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