Page 36 of The Wolfing Hour
“Not much could surprise me at this point.”
“Ronan, there’s something in those files you need to see before they’re released.” I lifted my head from his shoulder but kept his hand in mine. “It affects your family.”
“Well, yeah. Floyd’s my birth father.”
“No, your real family.”
“Rory?” The way he said her name made me regret what I had to show him even more. “Is it about her mom?”
“Yes,” I said. “And it’s bad.”
Ronan opened his mouth to ask more, but Margaux chose that moment to step out onto the porch. Normally perfectly coiffed and rigid as a frozen corpse, the dream of any casting director looking for a classicSnow WhiteEvil Queen, Margaux appeared disheveled and exhausted. Her black hair flowed around her thin shoulders making her look younger than her mid-forties, even with the streak of silver.
“The wound is nearly closed. Another few minutes or so, and Gladys will be stable enough to shift. She’ll need your help.”
“Thank you, Margaux. I’ll head in then. Her wolf will be looking for mine.” Ronan squeezed my hand before releasing it and rising to his feet. “We’ll talk later.”
“How did you do it?” Margaux asked. “I’ve never met a wolf who could remove silver from a wound with his teeth—or paws or anything else, for that matter. Not without grave injury to himself.”
Ronan stiffened. He was at the door, his hand on the knob. “There are prehistorics who can do it.”
“You’re not a prehistoric shifter,” she said. “You should be in agony.”
He let his hand drop and turned around. “You’ll keep this between us? Let the witches take credit for getting rid of the silver?”
“You have my word,” she answered.
Utterly confused, I swung my gaze from Margaux to Ronan. Alpha shifters had different talents. Some could heal their pack, some could even heal those outside their pack, depending on the injury. Why was Margaux so surprised that Ronan could touch silver?
I asked her about it, and she replied, “It’s unprecedented. At least, to my knowledge. It’s the one truism in the shapeshifter world. Silver kills.” She deferred to Ronan. “Am I mistaken?”
“No, you aren’t.” He shifted his feet, rolled his shoulders. “I purposely built up a resistance to silver.”
“How’s that possible given what Margaux just said?”
“It’s sort of a family thing. Wolves on the maternal side of my family are born with a higher immunity to the worst effects of silver, but we have to train the talent to get really good at it. Starting from a young age, I was given low doses every month. Similar to how a human might take a series of allergy shots to help prevent a severe reaction.”
“You had silverimmunotherapyas a child?” The thought horrified me. Silver was devastating to shifters—like pouring acid over a fresh wound. It stopped them from healing and could even kill them outright. I knew that much, at least.
“Yeah. I’d appreciate you both keeping this quiet. It’s an advantage our enemies don’t yet know about.”
Margaux nodded. “Your secret is safe with the witches.”
Ronan looked at me.
“Duh,” I said.
He grinned, winked, and let himself into Gladys’s trailer, leaving me alone with Margaux.
“That wolf is going to be a powerfully good alpha leader. The Pallás pack has no idea how fortunate they are.”
Margaux and I didn’t agree on many things, but we were on the same page when it came to Ronan’s alpha leader capability. Ronan wasn’t only going to be a good leader for the wolves, either. He was going to be the best shifter leader in the county, in my opinion. Shoulder to shoulder with Alpha Blacke in Sundance, another shifter leader I admired.
Powerful and kind andhonorable.
“Who the hell was spoon-feeding a little boy silver?” I muttered. “The pain must’ve been unreal.”
Margaux sat on the porch step beside me, opposite where Ronan had been. “Probably someone who recognized how strong he is and knew he’d need a secret advantage someday.”
