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Chapter Sixteen
Dastien’s cell rang, waking me up from the best night of sleep I’d ever had. Whoever that is, it better be important.
“Yeah.” Dastien’s voice, still thick with sleep, held a bit of rasp to it.
“The alphas have come to a decision. We’re meeting in the conference room in ten,” I heard Mr. Dawson through the phone, and swallowed the lump in my throat. “I need both of you there.”
“Okay.” Dastien hung up, and I rolled closer to him—laying half across his body. “We have to get dressed.” He brushed his hand down my back, sending comfort in its wake. “I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.”
I blew out a breath. I sure hoped he was right. Otherwise…
We quickly threw on some clothes and then grabbed a few PowerBars to eat as we walked to the admin building.
Before we stepped inside, Dastien grabbed my hand. “Whatever happens in there—even if it matches up with your vision—know that it’s going to be okay. We might end up in that church, but we know what’s coming now. We can fight it. So don’t freak out.”
I licked my lips as I stared at the door. “I know. Freaking out in a room full of Alphas is probably a bad idea, too.”
“Exactly.”
I stepped through the threshold, tugging him along with me. “Let’s get this over with.”
We heard the group inside the conference room arguing as soon as we entered the hall. I glanced at Dastien, and he shrugged.
The pack had been more stable since we’d gotten rid of the dissenters. More peaceful. No more fighting in the quad. The alphas had all agreed to stay put while we planned our next move. Seeing Weres on the news seemed to have ended that truce.
Dastien knocked twice. Before he could knock again, the door swung open.
Donovan stood in the doorway. “Good. You’re here.”
What is this about? I asked Dastien.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Judging by all the yelling, I should be running in the other direction. Not only was it intimidating, but in my vision, there’d been a lot of yelling.
I wiped my sweating palms on my jeans and stepped into the packed room. A long, oval table took up most of the space. I quickly scanned the room. Mr. Dawson, Donovan, Lucas, and Sebastian were the big alphas I knew at the table. Claudia sat next to Lucas, their hands twined together.
There were two other people that had a lot of power at the table that I didn’t know. A blonde lady and a man with ebony skin. The leader of the Cazadores—Keeney—sat on the far left side of the table. He wore all black, his head shaved totally bald. Today he’d added a black blazer to his usual all-black attire. He gave me a little nod.
Meredith sat next to Donovan, but none of my other Were friends had been invited to the war council. Cosette sat on Meredith’s other side, and the relief that she hadn’t disappeared for good was tangible. She was the only one leaning back her chair, looking relaxed as she twirled her hair around a finger, but the dark circles under her eyes told a different story.
Three other alphas sat at the table, but they weren’t as strong as the members of the Seven.
Dastien said something to one of them in French, and he answered in kind.
Who’s that?
The French pack’s Alpha.
Two seats were still open next to Mr. Dawson. Dastien rolled one chair back and waited for me to sit before settling down next to me.
My knee bounced under the table as my nerves took hold. This was looking eerily similar to my vision.
Donovan stood at the head of the table, commanding the room. “Thank you for coming, Tessa. You know most of us here. Though you’ve not met Lisabetta or Jackson.” He motioned to the two unknowns. “They’re two more of the Seven. We have Blaze and Muraco on the conference line as well.”
“Hola, chica,” Muraco’s voice came through the black speaker in the center of the table.
