Page 81 of Magical Midlife Conclave

“Yeah, the whole story was very far-fetched,” Nessa said, nodding. “Do shifters not…like…have any critical thinking skills, or…”

“We usually take things at face value,” Kingsley told her. “Most of us have honor. I’ve heard Armendale has done some…gray-area maneuvering in the past, but no one ever offered any proof.”

“They might not have had it,” Nessa replied. “We don’t. Not technically. I mean…I’m sure we could if we got a crime lab in here and looked around. Or even pulled phone records and actually did talk to eyewitnesses⁠—”

“What for?” Niamh asked. “Sure, he just basically admitted it. It wasn’t hard. She barely tapped on him, and he cracked like a walnut.”

“Did Tristan know?” I asked. “Also…” I pointed at Calvin, still sitting there, listening to every word.

“Nah. Er…I don’t know, honestly. If he did, he didn’t pass any remarks.” I was pretty sure that meant he didn’t care. “He told ya, didn’t he? Look, I was right. Don’t mind that alpha, there. He’s better off knowing to keep his people clear of Armendale unless he wants to lose any more.”

Nessa held up a hand for a high five.

Niamh eyed it. “Whaderya at?”

Nessa put her hand back down.

I sent a peal of magic for an all-clear. Cyra and Hollace were still circling, trying to rain down havoc on anyone who dared step into the street. I could feel Cyra’s glee.

I turned to Austin. “A word?”

He eyed me warily. “Of course. My office?” Once inside, he motioned at the interior. “Soundproof?”

I nearly did soundproof us so that I could yell. Could scream. I was so frustrated he’d kept me in the dark—that he’d essentially attempted to orchestrate this entire convocation without me, making decisions with my crew without my knowledge. That wasn’t what co-leadership was. It made me look unfit as a leader, staying at home, sleeping in while the territory was in crisis. Someone had died and I hadn’t known because he didn’t trust me to do my job.

But yelling would only put my anger front and center and detract from the actual message.

So, I took a deep breath and explained all that as calmly as I could. I explained what Tristan had said and how audacious it had been for him to say it in the first place. How I’d had to wrangle the convocation because he’d focused solely on the shifters. And how open he’d left the territory and everyone in it, relying on us for safety that we weren’t providing.

“Imagine having to tell an alpha that nearly half a day had gone by in my territory and I’d just heard his family member had died. Imagine that, Austin,” I said. “Imagine being the only one who didn’t know all this was going on. How could I possibly call myself a leader? We’re a team. You need to act like it.”

He sagged. His shoulders slumped and remorse came through the bonds. “It would’ve been nicer if you’d yelled. The ‘I’m disappointed in you’ approach is always the worst.”

I huffed out a laugh. “I didn’t realize I was reaching for that approach but…yeah, it fits.”

“It does.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to try to get ahead of his rumormongering, but he was trying to take control of the discussion in the bar and”—he shook his head—“my beast got in the way. He knew which buttons to push. At one point, I wanted to explode. Kingsley had to step in to distract him and calm things down. Armendale was trying to make me into the hotheaded mess of my youth. He nearly succeeded.”

I put my hand on his chest. “He has a fragile ego. It’s not built on confidence the way yours is. That’s why he has to be the loudest in the room. He was given everything he has, and it doesn’t seem like he’s had to fight to keep it. His leadership isn’t based on strength and power; he just pretends like it is. Which would be fine in the gargoyle world, but shifter culture is different, so he postures. He raises his voice. He talks over people and won’t give Aljoe’s powerful sisters the time of day. He pokes at you and calls you names. You need to stop giving him the power of your attention. Ridicule him. Ignore him. That’s the best way to deal with a guy like that. Assuming he won’t ever challenge, and it doesn’t seem like he will.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He paused, his eyes delving into mine. “Can I hug you?”

I took a step back in answer. We weren’t done yet. “What was the deal with sending the basajaunak away? And the garhettes? And letting the gargoyles hang around and watch?”

He deflated that much more. He’d stand up to a phoenix, but he wouldn’t take on his disappointed mate.

I teared up for no reason and reached out to him. He pulled me into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry. I fucked up,” he said into my hair. “I was struggling for control. It got to the point where I thought Armendale and his crew were going to attack me. I wouldn’t have survived that, so I told Sue to get everyone away. He passed that on to Tristan⁠—”

“What?” I yanked his head back by his hair. “And you didn’t blast me with emotion, so I’d wake up and come help you?”

He tightened his arms around me, drawing me back in. “There were witnesses. I don’t think he would’ve taken me with a crew just then, but my head was spinning. My beast was raging. Kingsley got there just in time, then Aljoe’s sisters, then Aljoe himself. Sue came back in, and by that point, Armendale started backing down. I regained my footing. As I said, I think he was trying to show people I was still the wild-tempered Black Sheep Barazza…and he almost did.”

I leaned back into him, and he hugged me close, gratefully. “Please don’t get to that point before you call me, okay? I can help with that. I was married to a fragile ego for twenty years. I’ve learned how to handle it.”

“Okay.”

“You’re still in the doghouse, even after I tell you that I faced off with the Elder at very close range. I hit a bunch of gargoyles with stinging pain to make them do what I needed. And⁠—”