Page 7 of Scar Bonds: The Scars That Bind Us

But not to the Shifter Council apparently. There was nothing else. Case closed. No one had appeared to ask for Prince Senan’s side of the story at any point in the proceedings. He had been sentenced and punished based on the word of an Alpha-heir wolf shifter, and the two shifter guards who just happened to have anti-magic cuffs on them at the time.

Finlay cleared his phone screen, and put his phone back into his pocket, lighting his third cigarette. He was going to stink of them, and Morgan was bound to complain, but in that moment Finlay did not give a solitary fuck.

Cruel was the word Morgan had used. Lies was the word Prince Senan had used, and on the surface of things, both parties could be believed equally. Shifters could scent a lie a mile away…

Unless the truths the guards were being told by Morgan were only half-truths, and Prince Senan wasn’t allowed to talk at all.

Finlay had seen that happen more than once and as he thought over the brief words he’d exchanged with the prince, he realized his mate didn’t even use Morgan’s name, only his designation.

My mate wasn’t given a chance to face his accuser. Morgan probably found himself another fuck that night, leaving Prince Senan to be locked up, tried, and punished without having a chance to speak up for himself.

Finlay was grinding his teeth, he was so angry, and having to wait for Morgan for what felt like freaking hours didn’t help. The packet of cigarettes was half empty by the time Morgan finally left the convention center, waving at Lord Falcon and Gabrielle, the leader of the bear clan south of town, before heading to the car, swinging his keys in his hand as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Where the fuck did you slope off to?” Morgan said as he got closer. “You left me dealing with the meeting entirely on my own.”

“I told you before we left the house, you didn’t need me to hold your hand.” Finlay snatched the keys out of Morgan’s hand. “Get in the car. I’m driving.”

“Fuck. Something’s clearly crawled up your ass and died.” But Morgan went around to the passenger side of the car, and within a minute, they were on the road. Finlay already had a destination in mind, and he pushed the car as fast as it could go in his rush to get there.

Morgan hadn’t noticed. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed. “Gods, I had such a good night. You were right. I really needed to get out of the pack house for a bit. I was on such a downer before the meal and feel so much better. It’s amazing, don’t you think? You can mix with like-minded people for a while, and it’s a reminder that we’re actually independent adultsinstead of a figurehead everyone around me seems to want to complain to or about all the time.

“Getting dressed up, even simple things like voicing an opinion and actually having it respected. Gabrielle had a couple of really good ideas about limiting the complaints aspect among the pack. No one in his clan complains about anything – they just get on with their lives. Imagine how much easier life would be if the pack was like that.”

Finlay grunted. He’d traveled extensively and in his opinion a pack was only as good as the Alpha who looked after them. Not that Morgan was listening.

“Falcon was talking about the bonds between packs, clans, prides, and covens. He was right in what he said about us only really getting together once a year. I’m thinking we could come to a treaty deal with either the vampires or the bear clan. Falcon and Gabrielle both have daughters old enough to form a bond, and if you and I took one each, we’d really increase the standing of the pack.”

Snorting, Finlay shook his head as he indicated and turned off the main road, taking a winding road that went up the hills about a thirty-minute run from the pack grounds. “You can forget about including me in any shit like that,” he muttered, focusing on the road. “I’m not bonding with anyone.”

“Did you forget I am your Alpha?” Morgan chuckled. “If I order it, you have to obey.”

“You try forcing me to do something like that and I’ll cut my bonds with the Luna Pack permanently. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Gods, you’re so fucking moody this evening.” Morgan sat up and then frowned as he looked out at the darkness. “Where the fuck are you taking us? Did you take a wrong turn?”

“Nope. We’ll be there in a minute.”

“We’re nowhere near the pack house, or your house, either. Fin, what the hell’s going on?”

“We need to have a private chat.” Finlay swung into the small parking area he’d been looking for, hitting the brakes and turning off the engine the moment the car had stopped. “So, we’re having one. No one will bother us out here.” He flicked on the overhead light and glared at his brother who was looking confused for a moment before his face cleared.

“Oh, is this about what I said before we got to the event tonight?” Morgan clicked his fingers. “Just forget I said anything. Honestly, I was feeling dragged down and got depressed and anxious about nothing at all. You were right. I just needed to get my head off my desk for five minutes and talking to people in similar positions to mine was a great way to clear my mind. There’s nothing to discuss because I’m fine now.”

“We have plenty to talk about.” Leaning over, Finlay opened Morgan’s car door before straightening up again. “Get out of the car.”

“Why?” Morgan didn’t move.

“Because when I smash your head in I don’t want to get blood on the upholstery.”

“But it’s my car.” Morgan’s eyes widened. “Seriously, Fin cut this out. I’ve got shit to do at home.”

Opening his own door, Finlay climbed out and walked around the front of the car, illuminated by the headlights he’d left on. “I had an interesting chat with someone this evening, when I went looking for water.”

“Can’t have been that interesting. You didn’t come back to the meeting, and you’ve been in a right bloody mood since before Igot in the car.” Morgan climbed out of his seat and wandered around to the front of the car, just as Finlay knew he would. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Moving quickly, Finlay grabbed Morgan by the lapels of his jacket, pushing him over the hood of the low-slung car, using his body weight and his forearm across Morgan’s neck to keep his brother pinned. “What do you know about the fae known as Prince Senan of Blackstock?” he snarled.

Chapter Seven

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