Page 28 of Meet Your Maker: Part One

But admiration wars with my pragmatism. This experiment needs to succeed. Change must come, but it must be gradual, or it risks being perceived as too radical—something easily crushed before it has a chance to take root.

My gaze drifts to Xavier, and I’m unsurprised to see them nodding along, a wide grin splitting their face. They lean towards Sunday, whispering something in her ear. Sunday’s lips quirk into a smile, and she gives Xavier a playful nudge. It seems X has a favorite. A knot of unease tightens in my chest. I suppose it was too much to hope we’d all agree.

Sunday thanks Tamazi with a sincerity that eases the lioness’s hackles, acknowledging the shared frustrations of many shifters in the room. Then she cracks open a second Ogre. The air fills with the putrid scent of artificial fruit and sour candy. I glance at the can. Swedish fish flavored.Of course.

“Okay, do we have anyone else lookin’ to toss a hat into this ring?” Sunday scans the audience and smiles. “Great. If y’all will just hang out here for a few minutes, we’ll deliberate and be back in a jiffy.”

***

The heavy wooden doors swing shut behind us, sealing away the hum of the waiting crowd. But even here, the air crackles with the residual energy of the Moot—impassioned speeches and heated debates lingering like smoke.

Sunday collapses onto a velvet-covered divan, her shoulders slumping. “Well,” she sighs, “that was… something.”

Grayson sinks beside her, taking her hand. “You were magnificent, Lover,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing her knuckles. “They may not all agree, but they can’t ignore you.”

Xavier paces, restless energy radiating off them. “So, who’s it gonna be?” Their voice is edged with impatience. “We’ve got a long list of contenders and not a lot of time.” They relent and join Sunday and Gray on the settee when she reaches out a hand.

I stay leaning against the wall, too keyed up to sit, though amusement colors my tone. “You certainly ruffled a few feathers tonight.”

Sunday straightens, determination sparking in her eyes. “Let’s start with the easy ones. For the vampire representative, I’m leaning toward the Bohemian, Camille.”

Grayson nods. “She’s very qualified. Her experience working with shifters and demons is invaluable.”

Sunday adds, “And I owe Bathory for her support. This compromise might delay an invasion.”

Grayson’s smile is grim. “It’ll happen anyway—probably before the year’s out.”

“Well, shit. Is there a political solution?”

Grayson shrugs. “If Rurik had let Maximo speak, I’d have suggested him. A Volga proxy would’ve been ideal.”

Sunday’s eyes find mine. “What do you think, Tomas?”

I cross my arms. “Camille’s the best we’ve seen tonight. She knows how to work with shifters, and she believes in our little ‘democratic experiment’.”

Sunday snorts. “Let’s just hope she doesn’t think we need a revolution every twenty-five years.”

Xavier’s restlessness flares again. I can almost see their tail flicking in agitation. “And for the demon representative?” Their attention is fixed on Sunday.

“Corvus,” she says, no hesitation. “He’s ambitious, but he’s intelligent and capable. Most importantly, he understands the need for change.”

Grayson’s brow furrows. “Are you sure you don’t mean, ‘And most importantly, he’s Bane Sandoval’s brother?”

“No, Grayson, I knowexactlywhat I mean. But maybe I should add: most importantly, this entire coup would have failed without him.”

Grayson frowns. “I’m aware of his ambition—and his slippery nature.”

Sunday meets his gaze, steady and sure. “I believe he can be an asset. We’ll keep a close eye on him, of course.”

The decision for the shifter representative proves more contentious.

“I vote for the lioness,” Xavier grins. “She made me feel all tingly.” Sunday swats their arm. “Tingly in mymind!”

I shake my head. “I get the sentiment, but choosing Tamazi isn’t strategic or politically wise. It would alienate the dae and vampires. She’s a loose cannon, and she wants a war.”

Grayson stretches, draping an arm around Sunday. “Roxana neglected North Africa for far too long. Giving them a voice in leadership could be a powerful gesture.”

I let out a slow breath. “I can’t believe I need to argue with you, of all people, about not propping up a volatile leader with bellicose leanings… but apparently I am.” I pause, centering my thoughts. “The Sardinian wolf is the smarter choice. He’s a beta in an integrated pack with a large refugee population. He’s mated to a demon and he’s careful with his words.”

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