“You can try,” Leonid said, smile returning, “it will be fun.”
Julian’s hand flexed at his side. Arthur knew that look; he was already plotting contingencies.
Arthur turned back to Dominic. “You have my apology,” he said, the words like gravel in his mouth. “I should have told you before I sent that letter. I thought…” He let the sentence tail off. There was no pretty way to finish it.
“You thought wrong,” Dominic said bluntly.
“Yes,” Arthur said, “I did.”
The admittance hung in the air between them, fragile.
For a moment, Dom simply looked at him. Then some of the tightness eased out of his shoulders.
“We’ll deal with it in the hall,” he said, “not in front of Volnoye.”
Arthur nodded once.
“Dom,” Theodore said quietly, “your wolves are getting twitchy.”
It was true. Volkhov's shoulders trembled, claws half out, eyes hot. Leonid’s wolves mirrored them, ears pricked, poised on the edge of blood. Nordan weren’t much better.
Rory clapped his hands once, startling more people than he should have.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, “Volnoye are going to walk back over that ridge to whatever hole they’ve claimed for themselves this week. Volkhov is going to retreat ten paces and remember they’ve got more important enemies than the idiots across from them. Nordan are going to stop looking like they’d quite enjoy a three-way brawl and go back to doing tedious, necessary Nordan things. And the vampire”—he nodded at Casimir—“is going to go drink something that isn’t my blood and write a nice report to his prince about how astonishingly restrained we all were.”
Casimir inclined his head gracefully. “I can do all but the last,” he said. “I’m not paid enough to lie.”
“You are absolutely paid enough to lie,” Kiara muttered.
Casimir’s mouth twitched.
Dominic snorted despite himself, temper cracking just enough for air. “Fine,” he said. “Volkhov, back.” He jerked his chin. “Ten paces. Now.”
His wolves obeyed. Habits of a lifetime. The line peeled back, leaving the border stones clear.
Leonid watched them with lazy amusement, then clicked his tongue.
“Volnoye,” he said. “Let’s not scare the nice wolves more than we have to. We’ll save our charm for the council.”
His wolves fell in behind him, some with obvious reluctance.
Leonid paused as he passed Arthur, leaning in just enough that only the Nordan Alpha could hear.
“Thanks for the invite, Arthur.”
Arthur held his gaze, unblinking, “You lay a hand on anyone in my town, I’ll tear your spine out through your throat.”
Leonid’s grin made his wolf want to bite. “Promises, promises,” he said, then strolled away, his pack flowing after him like a shadow.
The clearing slowly uncoiled.
Volkhov wolves began to drift back toward town, some casting uneasy glances at the tree line where the Volnoye had retreated.
Chase blew out a breath. “Well,” he said, sotto voce, “that went terribly.”
“We got out without blood,” Arthur muttered, “could have been worse.”
“Give it a chance,” Chase said, “it’s only been, what, an hour?”
