Page 26 of The Sacred Wolf

I sighed.

“So, everyone in the car who’s a member of the Children of Leto, please refrain from saying anything about the purpose of your visit, as in not one word, when we get to the Plaza. Just let us do all the talking, okay?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “It’s up to Alpha Max to let you stay, and that will take… some convincing.”

“Whatever you wish, Elyse,” Ayla replied, cutting her prayer short.

At least she seemed to have finally gotten comfortable calling me by name. My wolf wasn’t going to sit still for being called the “Promised One” again, and I’m not sure I’d try to stop her if she wanted to give them a lesson in actual obedience.

“And remember, no one says anything about Evan,” Sebastian added gruffly. “As far as my pack knows, he’s a friend of Elyse’s from a distant pack, who came to the city for her sister’s mating ceremony, and well—just be quiet.”

I smiled wistfully to myself. That description had basically been true if you considered humans to be a pack. And I did. If only I could tell Charlie and Jayla about this…

The Children bowed their heads solemnly, and I let out the breath I’d been holding as we pulled up to the Plaza. We made our way up the elevators, crowding in and hitting the button for the floor with the Alpha Family’s personal servants’ quarters. In the meantime, the plan was for Sebastian to create a story about their presence not unlike Evan’s, maybe even linking them as distant relatives of my mother before introducing them to Max.

Unfortunately, when the doors opened onto the lobby of that floor, they also revealed Max and Mateo, whose faces went from serious to seriously confused in the millisecond it took them to spot the Children. My breath returned to staying inside my chest instead of coming and going.

I opened my mouth, but Max had already turned to Sebastian, his brow furrowed, nose wrinkled. As we stepped out, the herb cloud wafted from the elevator. At least Max could smell that they were harmless shifters. I didn’t sense a stirring in his pheromones that would show his wolf coming to the surface, just the scent of irritation.

“Sebastian, you’ve brought us more guests?” Max looked at his son with what could only be described as affectionate outrage.

“Ah, yes,” Sebastian said, forcing a smile. “I’ll brief you both.”

With that, he pulled Max and Mateo aside and began speaking with them in hushed tones. I had to assume he was giving them the pre-planned explanation, but judging from Max’s demeanor, it wasn’t going over well. Not that I blamed him. Although I thought I’d already adjusted to the Children’s strangeness, I hadn’t yet seen them where there was adequate light to illuminate the finer… details.

Now I could see that besides being tall and thin, Jasper’s curly reddish hair was pulled back in a sloppy man-bun, tied with hand-woven string bracelets. His loose linen shirt was tucked into what looked like yoga leggings secured with a woven raffia belt and cuffed above worn leather espadrilles. Around his neck were at least ten thin leather necklaces bearing various sterling silver pendants, and a wide stamped leather cuff encircled his left wrist. Somehow, I couldn’t help thinking he might be the only shifter in history to have a vegan wolf.

The blonde and medium-built Monty was at least wearing a simple T-shirt and joggers, but the T-shirt bore the phrase “Proud Peacenik” in a typeface that looked like a pup’s scribble. What I’d failed to notice until this moment was the mandolin he carried on a strap. It had been hidden behind his back before, but now he’d pulled it out and was strumming it lightly, crooning along with the warm lilt of the strings. It was too low to make out most of the words, but I was certain I heard my name, and I flushed, darting a look at Max, whose cheeks were reddening even faster than mine.

Ayla wore a soft, long-sleeved, ballet style top with lavender and teal harem pants that were cinched at the bottom by a pair of 90s style platform boots. Around her neck and wrists, a bevy of beaded jewelry tinkled as she pulled a tied bundle of herbs and a cigarette lighter from her massive patchwork cross-body bag. Before I could stop her, mostly because I didn’t know it was coming, she’d lit the herb bundle and began wafting it around me, murmuring in a language I didn’t recognize.

“Hey! Stop that—” I began, but Max cut me off.

“Put that out!” his voice boomed as he pushed past his son and stood glaring at Ayla, his ramrod straight spine making him tower over her. “There is no smoking in the Plaza of any kind,” he growled, drawing out each word as if talking to her pained him. “Whatever kind that may be.”

With a chagrined look at me and my ruddy cheeks, Ayla nodded. “My apologies, Alpha,” she mumbled, snuffing the herbs.

Max scanned over the Children with distaste. “My son has vouched for all of you, and while I trust him implicitly, you must understand that there has been turmoil in the city of late, and I’m not inclined to have strangers in my home.”

As he said this, Mateo’s gaze landed on Ayla and twitched, his eyes narrowing. She gave him a weary half-smile, but didn’t acknowledge him in any other way. This surprised me, given the smiling faces that had peered out of that photograph from their youth. Between how long it had taken Mateo to make the connection and the obvious lack of warmth in his greeting, I suspected there had been changes since they’d all posed together. For some reason, I hadn’t expected anything smacking of tension given Mateo’s gentle nature and the utter lack of aggression in my newfound band of peacenik apostles.

Then again, I wasn’t sure what I’d expected of the Children. Just a few weeks ago, I hadn’t known they existed. Despite my distaste for the obnoxious hero-worship with which they showered me, I’d been looking forward to speaking with Ayla about my mother. She had to have known her. They might even have been friends, for all I knew. But after Mateo and Ayla’s odd reactions to seeing one another, I realized might have to tread carefully in asking either of them questions.

“Max,” Mateo ventured in his soothing rumble, “I hadn’t gotten a close look at these visitors, but I can vouch for them too now. Or at least for her.” He indicated Ayla.

Max’s eyebrow twitched upward. “Oh?”

“It’s as Sebastian said. They’re from a distant pack, but I’ve come across their relatives in the past, and know them to be harmless,” Mateo explained.

“Fine,” Max said, shaking his head. “Consider them your responsibility, then.” He turned back to Sebastian. “We don’t have time for these distractions, son. Elyse can get the visitors settled. I want you to join me in our office to go over your findings from the day with Mateo and me before I retire. It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, Father,” Sebastian said, bowing his head and following the two males into the elevator without so much as a glance spared in my direction.

As the doors closed, the breath that had taken up residence in my chest squeezed free with a slight wheeze. We were off the hook—for now, anyway. Max was no longer concerned. He was just annoyed. I could work with that. His determination to find Yara and Damien would take up his focus and give me some time to figure out what to do with the Children.

I shivered. And I’d have time for a shower. Finally.

“Alright, folks,” I said wearily. “This way.” I headed down the hallway, mind on the blessedly hot water that would be blasting my skin in mere minutes, and then startled as my wolf shimmied inside me.

Can’t I bite them? Just a little?

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