Page 58 of Elven Throne

Rebecca swallowed the urge to scream and gritted out, “Yeah.”

“Your people tell me you’re the leader of this…rebel force. Correct?” The woman spoke with a gentle underlying authority, her voice steady and inviting.

Rebecca would have believed it was genuine, like the rest of her task force seemed to believe, if that genuineness had extended toallof them.

Clearly, Shade’s Roth-Da’al was the only one who recognized the fact that it didn’t.

“You heard right,” she replied stonily.

How long would this woman stand here, trying to engage in conversation, before she realized this personal visit was entirely unwelcome?

“My name is Annie,” the woman said, extending the plate of food. “And this is for you.”

Rebecca shook her head. “That’s not necessary. And I’m really not hungry.”

Annie didn’t retract the plate. “Your people will be well fed while under our roof. You are all under our protection now, and pack law applies to everyone. Even guests. Here, our leaders are the first to eat.”

She wanted to slap the plate up into this woman’s face, but Maxwell’s sharply growing discomfort urged her to remain civil. So she fought against every instinct to put this woman in her place and did nothing.

For him.

Plus, she had a feeling she needed to accept that plate, though the thought of food right now made her stomach churn. Nothing about this place fostered a healthy appetite, no matter how much a decent meal might have helped.

But she’d lost all desire to play nice, especially when Annie was still the only shifter here who’d dared approach her while she remained so close at Maxwell’s side.

What were the chances of getting her entire task force kicked out of here because their Roth-Da’al had stubbornly refused the pack’s hospitality? Pretty fucking high, she guessed.

With a heavy sigh, she reached for the plate, all but snatching it from Annie’s extended hand, then set it in her lap.

That wasn’t enough for Annie. Of course it wasn’t.

The woman stayed right there, practically hovering over Rebecca with a silent patience that made one thing very clear. She intended to stay, just like this, until Shade’s leader accepted this ceremonial shifter offering of a home-cooked meal as it was given.

She wanted to watch Rebecca eat it.

The overpowering odors of the dish wafted up toward her—all the same thick spices around stewing vegetables she’d smelled at the front door. Then Rebecca looked down to find a large portion of braised meat amidst well-cooked and spiced carrots, potatoes, leeks, onions, and peppers, with a clear plastic fork off to the side.

Pack law, huh?

In a way, this one wasn’t all that different from the old-world laws of hosting guests and ensuring peace—the way she’d broken bread with Kordus Harkennr and later with Rowan.

Rebecca had to do this now, didn’t she? Right in front of Maxwell while Annie stood over her and watched.

Fighting to keep her hand from trembling with rage and indignation, Rebecca grabbed the fork, stabbed it into a tender piece of meat, and shoved into her mouth the only bite she was willing to take.

By the Blood, it was delicious.

A single bite, exploding with flavor and nourishment, and she became painfully aware again of just how hungry she really was. How long it had been since she’d had a good meal. How much stronger and more prepared her physical body would become after a solid meal like this.

It made her sick all over again while her mouth simultaneously watered and she yearned to wolf down every last bite. Maybe even to ask for more.

But she wouldn’t.

When she glanced back up at Annie, the woman’s smile grew, as if Rebecca had just gushed with the highest praise, that everything was just perfect, this entire situation working out so unbelievably well.

It was all a lie.

Everything wasnotokay. Not until Maxwell was released from the grip of this constant disrespect rendering him invisible and obsolete.

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