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"If I cringed every time an alpha of another shapeshifter pack showed his teeth, I would be you."

Isabella glared at me. The woman at her side tensed.

Did you like that? Here, have another one. "Where I come from, we don't give up our daughters-in-law just because Jarek Kral snarls. But I understand you do things differently. If Kral ever decides to take away your lunch money, let me know and we'll help you out."

Isabella blinked. The dark-haired woman said something in Italian. Isabella's stare gained a deadly edge. "This will help you not at all. You are being replaced, and you are so stupid, you don't even realize it. When a shapeshifter loves a woman, he doesn't let another woman hunt next to him, nor does he let her finish his kills. When Lennart throws you away, I will be waiting."

She turned around and marched away, her younger escort in tow. I waited thirty seconds.

"Did this happen?"

Derek paused before answering. "Yes."

"So he let Lorelei finish his kills?"

"Yes."

"Does this mean something or is she just blowing smoke in my face?"

Derek sighed. "He shouldn't have done it. It's something wolves do. It's not like offering food, but it's close."

My chest suddenly acquired a heavy rock. It rolled inside me, hurting.

"It can also be taken a different way," Derek said. "Parents let kids finish their kills. Older brothers let younger kids do it . . ."

I looked at him.

"He shouldn't have done it," Derek said. "But he never does anything without a reason."

"When I asked you if you knew something I didn't, you lied to me."

"I didn't lie. I just didn't volunteer information. I didn't want you to worry."

I wasn't worried. When Curran got here, I intended to trip him, sit on him, and shake him until he explained this thing to me. So far, he'd let her stand naked next to him, he'd let her hunt with him, he'd let her finish his kills-whatever the f**k that meant-and in the past twenty-four hours he'd spent more time listening to her than he had speaking to me.

A cold thought squirmed through me. From a purely logical point of view, Lorelei would make a better Consort. She was a shapeshifter, she had ties to the largest shapeshifter pack in the United States, and her father wasn't planning to exterminate the shapeshifters because they were becoming too powerful.

Logically it made sense, but none of that mattered, because the man who'd fallen asleep next to me last night loved me. I would bet my life on it. The way things were going, I just might have to.

Derek walked out into the hallway and stayed there.

"What are you doing?"

He nodded at the stairs. Curran jogged down, jumped, covering the last few steps, and headed straight for me, light on his toes, radiating that contained physical energy that pulled me like a magnet.

I scrutinized his face. He seemed on edge, his expression worn, the line of his mouth tired but firm. His eyes said that he was tired and annoyed, and if you got in his way now, he'd snap your neck without hesitation and keep going about his way.

I crossed my arms. "You-"

Curran gathered me to him and kissed me. It was a long, lingering kiss, made from fading exasperation, relief, and happiness. He smiled at me, those eyes so warm and welcoming. "I wanted to do this all day."

Okay. Now I was officially bewildered. I waited to see if question marks would sprout all around me, but the air stayed clear.

He noticed the hole in the wall. "What the hell happened?"

"We redecorated." I kept my voice level. "Where have you been?"

"The Belve and the Volkodavi wanted to discuss things, and I had to sit in as a witness."

"For five hours?"

"More or less. We just finished."

And Isabella must've come here right away to bug Desandra.

Curran dragged his hand over his face, as if hoping to wipe away fatigue. "They are trying to hammer out some sort of agreement to unite against Kral. I haven't eaten since the hunt. I'm starving."

"Did they succeed?"

"Hell no. Everybody was tired from the hunt and irritable as f**k. They bickered about inheriting the pass, and did their grandstanding, and accused each other of things. Radomil fell asleep. For a few minutes it looked like they might actually agree on something. Then the younger brother-Ignazio-decided it would be a grand idea to jump up and announce that when his nephew was born, at least he would be born smart like his father, so he should inherit the pass and not the other kid, who's been fathered by a citrullo."

"What's a citrullo?"

"From what I gathered, it's either a cucumber or a half-wit." Curran shook his head. "Then the Volkodavi started yelling. The Belve yelled back. Radomil woke up and someone clued him in that he had been insulted but apparently not who'd done it, because Radomil went after Gerardo and called him parazeet and viridok."

"Parasite and bastard," I translated. Voron was Russian. I spoke it well enough, better now that I had someone in Atlanta to practice with, and I'd hung out enough with Ukrainians to pick up the language. Curses were the second thing you learned, right behind yes, no, help, stop, and where is the bathroom?

"Ahh." Curran nodded. "That explains why Gerardo's mother went furry."

"So what happened?"

"Then I roared. Then everyone got insulted and declared that they wouldn't stand for this and the meeting was over. Good too, because I've had it with them. I wouldn't give these kids to either one of the packs. They don't give a shit about them or Desandra. As they were leaving, I could hear them yelling at each other. After Gerardo called Radomil every curse under the sun, Radomil's brother told him that smart men keep bitches in heat on a chain."

I developed a sudden strong urge to punch both of them in the face.

"He is lucky that he said that to Gerardo. If he'd said it to me about you, that would've been it. He would never say anything else."

Curran fell silent. I turned. Desandra stood in the doorway of the bathroom. Color drained from her face. "Vitaliy said that?"

Curran looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "Yes."

"What did Gerardo do?"

"He called him some name I didn't catch."

"But did he do anything?"

"No," Curran said.

"I see," she said quietly. "I don't think I'll be going to dinner today. My bitch chain isn't long enough."

"Desandra . . ." Curran said.

She raised her hand. "Don't." Her voice shook. She was about to snap.

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