Page 9 of Resurgence of the Pack

I bit my thumb as I wondered about Wakefield’s motivation in bringing the two of them. Was Rae his mate, perhaps? Wakefield ran the Norfolk pack and it had a sterling reputation, but it was worth checking whether any of our new loners came from there. I couldn’t recall Elena saying any of them did, but Greg had the latest reports and he might know more.

‘Are there any loners from the Norfolk pack?’ I asked him.

‘None that we know of,’ he confirmed.

I nodded: that was another good sign. With all the loners living in Nina, Elena had taken to gently interviewing each of them and ascertaining why they had gone lone and where they had come from. With her history with her brother Jackson, she was quick to build a rapportand could ask questions that weren’t considered polite or proper. Her journalistic skills also meant she knew how to interview people effectively, when to dig for more and when to let shit slide.

Elena had been giving Greg and me regular verbal updates without revealing the identities of her interviewees. She didn’t break their confidence, but it was helping us to gather information and paint a dark picture of some of the packs up and down the country. However, it was also clear that most of the loners came from only half a dozen packs so the problem wasn’t as widespread as I had feared. Some packs were behaving as packs should, as family.

Greg fetched all three wolves from the Norfolk pack. I was pleased to see that Wakefield – Wakado – was fully clothed. When he entered the room he took up a significant amount of space; he had a presence thatcommanded.He was as tall as Greg but he was a huge, hulking man with arms the size of most men’s thighs, and his chest was as broad as it was deep. He had a dark head of hair that extended to a fully groomed beard.

‘Wakefield,’ I greeted him evenly.

‘My Queen,’ he responded warmly and slid to one knee. On either side of him his second and third did the same. The woman, Rae, looked respectfully at her alpha, thoughthere was nothing covetous or possessive in her gaze. They didn’tseemlike lovers, so why was she here?

I smiled welcomingly, letting them know that I appreciated their show of respect. ‘Thank you. Please rise and be seated.’ I wanted them to feel comfortable whilst we spoke.

They sat on the three chairs on the other side of my desk; my chair and the mahogany desk I was behind were both slightly elevated. Lord Samuel had enjoyed a power play and I’d seen no reason to interfere with that. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

I waited until they were all seated before I began. ‘When I assumed the role of Queen, it was immediately evident that there are a number of issues within the packs in the UK, not least of which is inequality between the genders. I hear tales of women being pressed into acting as nothing more than brood mares, particularly ones that can conceive.’

Werewolves struggled to conceive and carry to term. Pups were rare and consequently supposed to be treasured, as were the women that bore them; they should have been revered, not forced to become glorified sex slaves. The very thought of that made me feel ill.

I looked at the three of them. ‘It is interesting to me, then, that your third is a woman and that you brought her here with you.’

Wakefield cleared his throat. ‘In actual fact, my second is a woman,’ he admitted. ‘Raeis my beta.’

Rae nodded. ‘Mindful of the animosity that I would face as a female beta, Joseph volunteered to register as Wakado’s beta. Outside the pack, he appears to all and sundry as Wakado’s second, but in truth that is my role. I bested Joseph fair and square in the tourney.’

‘She did,’ Joseph confirmed with an easy smile, not looking the least bit rueful about being beaten.

‘That is why they are both here when you only asked me to bring my beta,’ Wakefield rumbled. ‘I didn’t want to reveal Rae as my second and expose her to vitriol and challenges, but I also knew you’d want to meet her. In some ways I feel as if I have two betas – my true beta, and my fake beta that I show to the world.’

‘That’s not the most flattering description,’ Joseph quipped.

I sat back in my overly large chair and processed his words for a moment. How many packs had women strong enough to be beta who hadn’t been recognised as such because the position had gone to a male instead? How many women were pulling their punchesin tourneys so they didn’t raise their heads over the parapet? How many alphasweren’taccepting a woman as a second because womenshouldn’tbest a man? It made my blood boil.

I’d seen it often enough whilst working in finance: the women who got ahead were the ones who acted like men, pulling on a proverbial cock before they swaggered into the office every day. They worked obscenely long hours, swore like sailors, bitched and connived, and they trampled on other women to elevate themselves. I hated that attitude. Pushing a colleague under the bus did nothing but drag you down with them. Help the colleague fix the error – now that was what the workplace should be. Or a pack. And that was exactly what Archie had done for Thea, I thought with satisfaction. Maybe Iwasachieving something positive here.

Rae didn’t look like a woman who pulled on a strap-on to fit in – though each to their own, of course. She looked strong but still feminine. She didn’t shy away from her nature, she embraced it. As someone who endeavoured to do the same, I appreciated that.

I chose not to comment on the image they presented to the world. ‘Does everyone call you Wakado?’ I asked Wakefield instead.

‘My pack and my friends do, yes.’

‘You were a friend of Lord Samuel?’

‘I was. He was a fine man. Terrible at poker.’

I smiled at that. I’d seen the ledgers: Lord Samuelwasterrible at poker, at least ostensibly. I’d come to believe that, quite to the contrary, his losses had been deliberate.

‘A smokescreen to get him into poker nights with others,’ I said over steepled fingers. ‘He was rich and supposed to be a terrible player so others saw him as a mark. He was invited to games up and down the country. I believe it was a reputation he cultivated and he attended such games to gather information. He didn’t give a shit about winning.’

Lord Samuel would gamble heirlooms and all sorts of valuable items that guaranteed his place at the table, then he simply had Jess steal them back for him. I didn’t share that titbit.

Wakefield blinked in surprise. ‘Well, now.’ He reached up and stroked his beard. ‘Well, now,’ he repeated. ‘That changes things.’

‘I believe he used his incompetence as window dressing whilst he investigated members of the Council who might be involved with the Black Tourney. Nobody saw him as a threat so he could wangle invitations that other people couldn’t obtain.’

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