Page 97 of The SnowFang Storm

“There are three of them,” Thessa said. “You and Sterling can abdicate, and SnowFang can continue on without you.”

“That’s disgusting,” I said coldly.

“How much danger are they already in?” she asked with sweet malice.

More than she knew, and more than I was going to admit.

Kyle regarded Sterling with a compressed smile. “We have some wolves and humans who try to oversee our increasingly complicated financial interests, but they’re unsatisfactory. It would ruffle fur, but a self-made billionaire can make his own arguments.”

Sterling absorbed this information in silence.

Kyle waited for something from Sterling, got nothing, shifted his attention to me. “Winter, you’re the heir to your family’s work. Your father didn’t train his replacement, but you worked alongside him and understand it better than anyone. You’re also a true feral. We want to leave Manhattan in the next five years, and we need to replace the traditional feral skills we’ve lost. You could identify ferals with the pedigrees we need to fill in gaps, plus the appropriate feral skills. We haven’t had much luck recruiting ferals like yourself.”

I should have been used to the feeling of being gobsmacked, but then something swooped in from the sky to up-end my ass again just to let me know the universe operated on a scale my wee little mortal mind couldn’t comprehend. “You plan to go feral?”

“We want to become more like AmberHowl. Thessa and I believe they’re the model for how packs will survive in the future.”

Maya had talked about a machine, and the city being a powder keg that GranitePaw had to control. So did the city just explode when GranitePaw left? Did it just become Incel Island, a division of Hell, Inc?

Sterling interrupted my thoughts. “I’m worthless to you as breeding stock if the rumors I’m a hybrid are affirmed. They have some large teeth.”

“Those rumors aren’t rooted in any reality, they’re just political drumbeats. Push the right buttons and they’ll be silenced,” Kyle said.

“If Rodero’s seal of approval couldn’t silence them, what makes you think yours can?” Sterling replied.

Kyle bristled a little under his suit. “Because I know the politics and players. You don’t. Do you think I’d bring a male into my pack if I wasn’t confidant I can defend his pedigree?”

“If the price was right, you might. I’m worth millions a year to you in tribute. That’s quite an incentive to see if you can make a quiet backroom deal to make it all go away. If you can’t, then you can just get rid of us.”

Kyle’s fingers knotted together in his lap. His knuckles went white, even as he tried to keep his face still and benign. “This is about the species, not my wallet.”

“Of course it is. Just like it’s about the Law of Proper Behavior.” Sterling checked his watch. “I have ceased to have any real interest in that particular law.”

Kyle flicked his fingers in disgust. “Your primary use to me is as a stud dog. I presume you please your mate well enough to serve that purpose. We have bigger plans for Winter.”

I was very much over being part of anyone’s “big plan.”

Kyle told me, “There’s an open adjunct Chronicler position. No apprentices are ready to take it. You’re the obvious choice for it.”

Me, an adjunct? He couldn’t be serious. “I’ve never been an apprentice. I’ve been an assistant. You’re high enough up the prestige ladder to know the difference.”

“That’s semantics. We all know that’s exactly what you were. You grew up in the Archives. How many hours of Council deliberations have you sat in on? You were always there. Everyone noticed it. The packs like GranitePaw sit in on the deliberations, and even we find it dull and boring much of the time. Rodero swore he didn’t make you. None of us believed him.”

How reassuring my father hadn’t been completely full of lies. I’d taken refuge in the Council meetings because my peers had wanted nothing to do with me. The other SilverPaw pups had complained that if I was around, everyone else ditched them. Or they’d only get invites to do fun things if they agreed not to bring me. I hadn’t gone to those Council meetings to get in all those extracurriculars to pad my college applications. I’d gone because it was either that or walking around the Greater Meeting all by myself while everyone wondered why I didn’t have any friends.

Kyle’s lips pulled back enough to show a gleam of tooth. “There are many packs who want someone other than the SilverPaw as the Chronicler, but the lineal ties and experience from birth can’t be argued with. You are perfect, in that you have all the ties, training, experience, knowledge… and you are not a SilverPaw. A few years as an adjunct, and we can attempt to elevate you to Chronicler.”

“Winter as the Chronicler?” Sterling shifted to the edge of his seat.

My brain turned into a flea circus. My thoughts jumped from trick to trick trying to find some sense of balance.

“Why not? There’s no prohibition against females as Chronicler,” Thessa said.

GranitePaw either knew exactly what they were suggesting, or they had zero idea about what Sterling and I’s involvement in whatever this AmberHowl situation was. Did they even know we weren’t formally mated?

Political hellscape aside, I didn’t want to be an adjunct, and I didn’t want to be Chronicler. I’d had my taste of glory and power and prestige when I’d been a Solstice Hound, and I’d seen how fast that got taken away. I’d played Chronicler games with my bride-price, and look what had happened. No, thank you. I was done. My last goal was going to be to figure out if FrostFur was involved, then I was turning in my chips, folding my cards, and leaving.

But the population crisis was real. GranitePaw would—and could—continue my father’s work. Maybe not in the way he would have wanted, and not in a way I agreed with, but it would be better than all that work sitting, collecting dust in the Archives. It’d be better than everyone sticking their heads in the sand because nobody wanted to do the hard things and make the hard choices.

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