Page 7 of Arranged Wolf's Nanny
Felix growled, his eyes misting over in the memory of those dark times. They had all been so young. Felix was only twenty when he led the revolution against the Old Guard. Nicolas and Dane had been eighteen. Rick was slightly older, twenty-three when he threw his lot in with the New Guard and relinquished any claim he had to the title of alpha.
Now he was thirty-one. He had had years of experience dealing with pack politics and alpha egos. And if there was one thing he had learned, it was that his species was every bit as ruthless as the beasts they turned into.
“War isn’t inevitable,” Felix said again, brushing his hand through his hair, “and we will do everything in our power to avoid it.”
Rick bowed his head. “Understood. But at least allow me to continue working on a few contingencies in case the Black Claws decide to do something monumentally stupid? Word is, they think Red Teeth’s attack weakened us. They’ll be looking for any excuse now more than ever.”
Felix cursed. “Will that male ever stop causing issues for us?”
“He’s dead, Felix. His ashes are soaked into the mud.”
“You can continue whatever political games you want,” Felix said, “but do it subtly. If they catch wind we’re trying to weaken them, they will attack.”
“When am I ever indiscreet?”
Felix chuckled. “I think your problem is that you go from beingdiscreetto downright…shadowy.”
“Shadowy?”
“Yes, shadowy,” Felix repeated, waving his hand at Rick’s general form. “Secretive. Sneaky. Closed off.”
Rick tutted. “Utterly ridiculous.”
Felix glanced past him, eyebrows raising slightly. “Oh, hello.”
“What?”
Felix jutted his chin towards the entrance. “John Heath and his lot. A couple of the bears are with him. The mountain lions, too.”
Rick didn’t bother turning around. “No doubt slobbering over that female he brought with him.”
Felix hummed. “His daughter, apparently.”
Rick lowered his drink. “Since when did John Heath have a daughter? I didn’t even know he was mated.”
“She died some twenty years ago,” Felix said, his eyes darkening. “By all accounts, it wasn’t…the happiest union.”
“I’m not surprised,” Rick said, swirling his whiskey around his glass. “From what I’ve gathered, John leads his pack in the…traditional way.”
Felix sneered.Traditionalwas just the polite name they gave to the disease that infected far too many packs these days. Ones that lacked balance, harmony, and trust. Ones where the alphas ruled over everyone else without giving a singular damn about actually protecting them. They justused.
It had been like that in the Iron Walkers under the Old Guard.
No longer.
The rambunctious noise behind him quietened as a sharp, smart click of heels cut through the guffaws and shouts of alphas having a good time. It was accompanied by the soft scent of amber and iris.
Rick couldn’t help but turn.
The girl really was a pretty little thing. Slender and refined, with gently sloping curves and delicate ankles and pale, creamy skin. Her hair, nearly black, fell in artfully styled voluminous waves around her shoulders, and sparkling diamonds at her ears and throat caught the light as she turned her head towards her father, blinking her wide, green eyes at him.
Every movement was calculated. Careful. Precise. A beautiful performance of a dutiful daughter raised in wealth and opulence. A glittering prize.
“He shouldn’t have brought her here,” Rick said, turning back to Felix. “If he had any good sense at all, he’d have locked her in her room under guard the second the sun sank and the drinks began to flow. Surely he’s aware of the danger she’s in?”
“John Heath is our ally,” Felix responded, his eyes trained on the girl. “Everyone here knows it. If anyone lays a finger on her, we’re duty-bound to intervene. I doubt that, even drunk, any of the alphas here would be stupid enough to test us.”
Rick glanced back at the girl. John Heath had a hand on her back, roaring with laughter with a cluster of other alphas. She had a serene smile painted on her ruby-red lips, but even from across the room, Rick could see the tightness at the corners of her eyes. The slight bob of her throat as she swallowed.
