Page 170 of Wolf Roulette

But all three of the stewards said yes to dancing with a member of Sascha’s most trusted wolves.

“You didn’t plan that either?” I whispered.

Nope,his voice rang in my mind.

What does it mean?

His brows lifted.Change? For better or worse.

Yeah,the scent in the hall was uncomfortable and conflicted to say the least.You told your team about the alliance then?

Sascha nodded.I wanted to test their reaction first.

I’d done the same with my head team.How did it go?

Mixed, to say the least.

I blew out a breath. “Right.”Same with my head team, but over the last two days, they’ve come around to the idea and voted to support alliance negotiations and the possibility of a land proposal.

His focus snapped to me anew.Really? A land proposal?

I’m convincing.I winked.In all honesty, they spent five hours last night trying to think up every possible way to give the pack security without a land trust, but so far, they’re yet to find it.

Because there is none,he said grimly.Believe me.

I did.

I jerked my head at Hairy and Detta as they twirled by.Seems like you got through to them.

I’m more surprised than anyone.

Why should you be? Our pack respects you, Sascha. They know when hierarchy is needed and when it’s not. Look at them now.

We studied the Luthers.

Alpha stood by delta. Beta by gamma. Omega with alpha. Every possible combination. After experiencing how strongly Booker and Greyson clung to their sigma status—and how confronting it was for them to alter their views—I only had the utmost respect for the enormity of Sascha’s daily task.

He didn’t just play Grids each day. He managed a delta’s need to prove themselves.

The headstrong will of an alpha.

The disinterest of a gamma and timidness of an omega.

Betas were the most stable presence, perhaps, but that made them extra indecisive—a quality wolves possessed in droves as it was.

Then there was Greyson to manage too.

Sascha pulled me closer again, and I let him.

He lowered his head. “You know—”

Alarm sirens wailed overhead, and I clapped my hands over my ears, crying out at the pain ripping through my head.

Danger,Booker snarled.

She was moving us before I’d processed that she’d taken over. She placed our back to the nearest wall. The sound cut off, and—chest heaving—I searched for the source of the sound.

It was an alarm,I explained to her, quickly double checking my fangs and claws were away.

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