Page 44 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

“It is for the best,” Edwin says. Then a long pause before he adds, with obvious reluctance, “You have my word on that.”

“All right then.” Bishop clasps my hand as he settles in. “What happened at Trevelyan is a long and complicated tale, and if you can assure me you are the person to best condense it for your father…”

“I am.”

“Then I will take this step of trust and, furthermore, I will give you the full accounting, which includes some history you may or may not be aware of.”

“Everything will help.”

“All right then. We start with the Albion Pack and why Silas accepted two Danvers wolves and the wolves they brought with them. The Pack was struggling, young wolves leaving under Silas’s leadership…”

Bishop doesn’t tell Edwin everything, of course. There are nuances he doesn’t need to know, ones that overcomplicate the story. But the bones of it are laid out, along with a generous layer of extra substance once it’s clear that Edwin is a willing and perceptive audience.

I don’t know what to make of the eldest son. He reminds me of a man of business. Perhaps a barrister. Sharp-witted and outwardly forthright but still careful with his words, the sort of man who acts as if he is laying all his cards on the table, when you know he has a few hidden from view.

How would he translate into Alphahood? Decently, I think. He’s not Bishop, but he seems competent.

For our purposes, though, Edwin is what we need. Someone who will understand the whole of our story and is intelligent enough to make connections and ask probing questions.

“So you are not a member of the Levine Cabal?” Edwin says to me afterward. “Despite what you said last night?”

“I said I was part of the family. Not that I was part of the cabal. Nor do I want to be, but this isn’t about Bishop protecting me.”

Edwin lifts a hand. “Yes, yes, I heard all that, and it’s very clear as well as being none of my concern. I don’t know how my father will feel about you having a mate, Bishop, but that was not your decision and for an Alpha to turn his mate over to a cabal would be…” His lip curls. “Distasteful. It’s the symbolism of the matter, and my father will understand that.”

Edwin sits back. “Leave this with me. I will decide how to put it to my father, and if I must make omissions or deviations, I will consult with you first, so that you are not caught unaware.”

“That is appreciated.”

“Once we arrive, you will be assigned escorts. They will show you to your rooms and see to your needs. You are, of course, welcome to look about, but I will ask that if you leave the main residence, you have your escorts show you around, especially with…” He nods my way.

“We are guests in your home,” Bishop says. “We will behave as such and accept the courtesy of an escort.”

SIXTEEN

The Caledonian Pack lives in a castle. An actual castle. I should be delighted. Instead, I’m baffled and a little horrified by the audacity of it.

While we often talk about the witch hunts, the werewolf hunts came first. They weren’t nearly on the same scale, but they existed—a brief craze where every violent and brutal murder was perpetuated by a man who could allegedly change into a wolf, which explained his brutality. Which is ironic, because Bishop acknowledges that werewolves aren’t more violent because they’re part wolf—they’re violent because their strength allows them to be brutal and their human minds recognize brutality as a form of power that humans recognize.

So how does a werewolf Pack hide while living … in a castle?

I suppose the answer is that it’s not on any major routes, where tourists might be inclined to stop and poke about. And it’s not as if it’s filled with actual wolves. Still, it is a castle inhabited by reclusive men, and that’s going to attract curiosity no matter what explanation they give outsiders.

As we ride in, Edwin explains that the keep has been in the family for centuries, built by an ancestor, their distant relatives having been titled noblemen before those titles became inconvenient for werewolves. They sold the titles but negotiated to keep the land and castle.

The keep is walled and gated, and as we go through, I see the main building—the castle—along with many smaller buildings that Edwin explains are primarily residences. Having extra residences seems odd when the castle itself must be bigger than Trevelyan. But I remind myself that the Caledonian Pack is larger and even Trevelyan had planned to reopen the closed third floor as their numbers swelled. The outside buildings do seem … Well, they seem small, like village cottages, and not good village cottages. But every Pack will do things differently, and these wolves might prefer having their own homes rather than the more communal arrangement at Trevelyan.

It also seems very quiet. When I remark on that, Edwin says, “Most of the men are out working the fields. That’s our primary industry. We farm raw materials and then have the facilities to process them before they are taken into the city and shipped.”

“Will we meet the men tonight at dinner?”

He pauses, the slight downturn of his lips saying he’s confused by the question. “They will dine on their own, as usual.”

“Ah, my apologies,” I say. “I know each Pack has its own traditions, and I was still getting used to those of the Albions.”

“We dine as a pack,” Julius says.

“We do not,” Edwin says. “Normally, the family and my father’s inner circle would all dine together, but for your visit, it will only be the family. You will meet the inner circle, of course.” A thin smile. “We aren’t trying to conceal anything from you, in case you think we’re pretending to be larger than we are. You will hear the men when they come in, though I will ask your escort to ensure you are within the castle by then. It will save…” A flutter of his hand. “Explanations.”