Julian’s mouth twitched. “Chase,” he said, arching a brow.
He inclined his head to Arthur. “Alpha.”
“Didn’t know you were here,” Arthur said, “you enjoy the show?”
“If you stage it in a public house, it’s not spying,” Julian replied mildly, “it’s people-watching.”
His gaze skimmed the room, taking in Alex, Fenred, the knot of hunters, the younger wolves vibrating with second-hand outrage.
“So,” he said, “is there an official challenge on the table? Or are you all just posturing for fun?”
Alex bristled. “This is Nordan's business,” he said, “Volkhov doesn’t get a say in who leads our pack.”
“Ordinarily, I’d agree,” Julian said, “Nothing I like more than watching someone else tidy their own mess.” His eyes cooled. “Unfortunately, when your mess threatens to blow a hole in an alliance my alpha has spent a decade holding together, my interest…increases.”
Fenred finally looked up, gaze flicking between Arthur and Julian, assessing.
“Nobody’s talking about stabbing,” he rumbled. “We’re just—”
“Concerned,” Julian supplied. “Restless. Unsure if the alpha’s seeing straight. I heard the accusations.”
He stepped further in. He didn’t throw power the way Arthur or Dominic did, but somehow the room still tightened around him.
“Let me be clear,” he said quietly, “if the Nordan decides now is the perfect moment to test their alpha because he mated a witch and invited inconvenient allies, Volkhov will not stand idly by.”
Alex’s lip curled. “You’d interfere in another pack’s succession?” he demanded, “over awitch?”
“Over the fact that a fractured Nordan is a gift to the hybrids,” Julian said, “over the fact that my alpha will not watch the man who stood with him at Voskresen get dragged down by his own for trying to keep us all safe.”
His tone didn’t change, but something hard slipped into it.
“If you move on him,” he said, “we will back Arthur. Publicly. With teeth.”
Shock rippled through the room. A couple of wolves went pale. Fenred’s nostrils flared.
“You’d march against us?” an older hunter asked.
“If we have to,” Julian said, “after all, you supported Dominic when Leonid rebelled, at Arthur’s order. It’s only fair that we return the favor.” He smiled thinly, his gaze sweeping around the room. “You don’t like witches?” he said. “Join the queue. Most witches don’t like you. But they’re here. So are Severney. So are the vampires. So are Volnoye. Ask why. It’s not because Dominic wants to throw a tea party. It’s because something worse is moving in the dark and we don’t beat it by eating our own.”
Silence fell heavily.
Arthur watched his wolves, the way some dropped their eyes, the way others stiffened. Alex’s jaw ticked.
Arthur straightened. “Julian’s right about one thing,” he said, “hybrids don’t care if you approve of my mate. They don’t care if you like Volnoye. They care if we’re too busy snarling at each other to see them coming.”
He stared down at Alex. “You don’t like my decisions? Fine. You think you can do better? Challenge me properly. In the yard. Under the rites. Don’t stir up my pack in my bar like some gossiping aunt.”
A few huffs of reluctant laughter.
Alex’s hands tightened on the table. For a second, Arthur was sure he’d speak the words.
Then Alex glanced around, at Fenred’s closed face, at Julian’s steady, unblinking gaze. He exhaled.
“I’m not spilling Nordan blood the morning we’re supposed to stand united,” he said, “but this isn’t over. You keep choosing witches over your own, keep dragging Volnoye into our business, you’ll find loyalty has limits.”
“You walk that line carefully,” Arthur said. “You start talking coups again, we won’t be having this conversation with words.”
Alex’s mouth twitched in something that was not quite a smile. “We’ll see,” he said.
