Page 40 of Wolf of the Storm
Connor's predatory gaze fixes on her with sudden intensity. "Interesting. Which narrows the remaining targets considerably."
"Exactly." She doesn't look away from him, and pride surges through me at her courage. "We can identify and protect the likely victims. And we can focus our investigation on people with both the knowledge and power to perform blood magic."
"We?" Connor's lips quirk. "You consider yourself part of the investigation?"
"I'm the one who noticed the pattern." Steel threads through her words. "So yes, I'm part of this."
Silence stretches. Then Connor laughs—a cold, humorless sound. "I like her. She's got spine." He looks at me. "I don't trust her. But I like her. There's a difference."
"I don't need you to trust her. I need you to not actively work against her."
"Against her? No." Connor tilts his head, studying Eliza like she's a chess piece he's trying to figure out how to use. "Against you if this goes wrong? Absolutely. But I'm not going to sabotage an investigation that might save all our lives out of principle." He glances at Graeme. "Are you?"
Graeme's jaw works. The war behind his eyes is visible—principle versus pragmatism. Finally, he growls low in his throat. "Six months. If she proves herself useful, if she keeps our secrets, if she doesn't get anyone killed—then I'll accept heras pack. But if she compromises us, MacRae, there will be a reckoning."
"Fair enough." I extend my hand. After a moment, Graeme takes it. His grip is crushing, a reminder that he could challenge me if he chose. I match the pressure, reminding him why he doesn't.
"The Right of Judgment." The young wolf who insulted Eliza speaks up again, and I'm really starting to hate him. "You invoked it less than a week ago. Forced submission from wolves who weren't yours to command. That's not forgotten."
"Noted." I release Graeme's hand and turn to face the crowd. "The Right of Judgment was necessary to prevent bloodshed. If any wolf here believes I abused that power, you know what to do about it." I let the challenge ring out, daring any of them to step forward.
No one does. But the resentment rolling off some of them is palpable.
"We're done here." Elena's tone brooks no argument. "We have an investigation to coordinate and targets to protect. Standing around posturing isn't going to stop the summoner." She looks at me. "Southcove pack will assist however we can. Send me the list of potential victims once you've identified them."
"And Eastmoor will maintain our usual neutrality," Connor adds. "Though if you need information access, my resources are available. For a price."
"Always a price with you," Graeme mutters, but there's no real heat in it.
The gathering breaks up slowly, wolves dispersing in groups, heading back to their territories. But I catch the glances thrown our way, the muttered conversations. This isn't over. Graeme was right about one thing: I've created fractures in the careful balance we've maintained.
And I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
That night, I find myself at the cliffs behind Wolfstone. The same cliffs where I first showed Eliza what I am. The same cliffs where everything changed.
The moon is nearly full, and its pull sings through my blood, urging me to shift and run and forget everything except the hunt. But I stay human, staring out at the dark water, trying to quiet the storm in my head.
I sense her before I hear her. The mate bond has grown stronger over the past day, settling into something I can almost read like thoughts. She's worried. Scared. Determined.
"You shouldn't be out here alone." My words come out rougher than I intend.
"Neither should you." Eliza moves to stand beside me, close enough that her warmth seeps into my side. "Jax told me where you'd gone. Said you come here when you need to think."
"Jax talks too much."
"He's worried about you. They all are." She wraps her arms around herself against the wind. "I heard what they said at the stones. About me being a trap. About compromising your authority."
"It's not true."
"Isn't it?" Sadness colors her tone. "I am compromising your authority, Declan. I'm causing fractures. That young wolf was right—I don't know your laws, your ways. I'm going to make mistakes. And when I do, people are going to get hurt."
"So you'll learn." I turn to face her, framing her face with my hands. "That's what being pack means. You're not expected to know everything on day one."
"But I'm not just pack." Tears threaten in her eyes. "I'm your mate. Which means my mistakes don't just affect me—they affect you. Your leadership. Your pack's safety." She pulls back from my touch. "Maybe... maybe I should leave. Go back to London. At least until this ritual situation is resolved. Once the summoner is caught, once the threat is over, then maybe...”
"No." The word comes out as a growl, my wolf surging forward at the suggestion. "You're not leaving."
"Declan...”
