Page 33 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

“Silas also murdered Cordelia’s mother and aunt,” Julius says. “Her grandmother has many grievances. Unfortunately, the fact that the man who wronged her was dead—and her granddaughter begged mercy for the Pack—did nothing to assuage her vengeance.”

“And they call us savage,” Rufus mutters.

“I’m heartbroken by what happened to the Pack,” I say. “If I could have stopped it, I would have. I truly did try.”

“By doing what? Going off with a woman who murders anyone remotely connected to the people who wronged her?” He shakes his head. “Fuck that.”

Julius’s voice drops. “I know you don’t mean it, Rufus, but please don’t be cavalier about this. We lost more than half the Pack.”

Rufus’s head jerks up. “What?”

“We have ten wolves left, including us. And the cabal burned Trevelyan.”

Rufus goes perfectly still, as if trying to comprehend this. Then he whispers, “Fuck me.”

“So, we’re in a spot of trouble,” Julius says, mock brightly. “But we’re dealing with it. We have wolves to look after and a home to rebuild and plans to do both.”

“Why?” Rufus says. Before Bishop or Julius can answer, he continues, “No, really. Why? I understand this was your dream, Bishop. And I understand you support it, Julius. But you couldn’t save the Pack because it wasn’t salvageable. It never was. Take Bishop’s boys and make your own. Let the other wolves do what they like. Let that monstrosity of a house rot. Let the Albion Pack die with Silas.”

“No,” Bishop says.

“You stubborn son of—”

“Tell me what happens when the Albion Pack dies,” Bishop says. “London becomes neutral territory for werewolves? We all live together in peace and harmony? Either the Cambrians or the Caledonians will jump in or some new Pack will seize control. When that happens, I’m sure they’ll be happy to leave you in peace.”

Rufus bristles. “If you’re implying I enjoyed special treatment—”

“I’m not implying. I’m stating a fact. You did. My father did. Even my grandfather did. Every lone wolf who has made his home in England has done so because they—or their fathers or grandfathers—were once part of the Albion Pack. Arthur and Silas may have hated my grandfather, but as long as he stayed away, they were happy to have him in England, defending his own piece of territory against outsiders. Just as Silas was happy to have you here in Leeds.”

“Silas didn’t know I was alive.”

Bishop shakes his head. “I can still show you the record books—they were locked away, safe from the fire. You have a page, as does every wolf who lives in England. Former Albion wolves are allowed to unofficially lay claim to territory, provided they keep outside wolves at bay and don’t trouble the Albion Pack when its wolves pass through their city.”

“I made no such deal,” Rufus says, his voice dropping to an even deeper rumble. “If you’re saying I agreed—”

“You don’t need to. The Pack knows what former Pack wolves will do. What you did. What Montague did. What Claude did. You got far enough from London and Trevelyan for them to leave you be, and then you settled in to defend your little piece of England, which is to their benefit.”

Muscles bunch under Rufus’s shirt. “Is that why you’re here? Reminding me I owe fealty to the Pack?” His voice drops to a growl. “Remember your place, pup.”

Bishop locks gazes with Rufus for two seconds. Then he rises, his arm pulling me up with him, and we head for the door, Julius falling in behind.

“Don’t be like that, boy,” Rufus says, the growl falling from his voice, a note of exasperated affection taking its place.

Bishop opens the door and ushers me out.

“Julius, talk to your cousin,” Rufus says. “He’s got his knickers in a twist again.”

I glance back to see Julius shake his head. Rufus lunges, reaching past Julius for Bishop, and I hit him with a knockback. Then I tense, a binding spell ready, but Rufus only rocks back on his heels and grins.

“Nicely done, girl.”

Bishop turns, slowly, deliberately. “She is not a girl. No more than I’m a pup or a boy.”

“You’re Alpha of the Albion Pack. Yeah, I get it.”

“I don’t need you to ‘get it.’ You aren’t a Pack wolf, so I’m not your Alpha, and as Packs go, mine isn’t anything to be proud of. Not yet. But I am a wolf, a man, and you will show me the respect I show you.”

Rufus only sighs deeply, and when he reaches past Julius this time, I tense, waiting, but he just squeezes Bishop’s shoulder.