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“Of course,” he said. “More or less,” he added a moment later with a notable dip in confidence.

40

Riggs

We sat in an old ice cream parlor called Curly’s while we waited for Pax to gather the Pack Elders. The place was set up to look like a picture of the 80s, complete with black and white checkered flooring and retro neon signs all over the walls for cream swirls, face freezers, and nut blasters.

Sylvie was quiet when we were first told to sit in a corner booth and our guards dispersed around the restaurant, watching us with folded arms. Kyla wore an annoyed expression that didn’t waver. I thought she was probably trying to figure out which one she would kill first if this got violent, and I grudgingly had to respect that. Vamp or not, she was still the old Kyla I’d grown up with. She’d been innocent once, but little by little, she’d turned into a certifiable badass who wasn’t afraid to defend herself.

“Are they going to give us ice cream?” Sylvie asked. “Like… why here?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I said. “But werewolves have a tendency for weirdness. None of us want to be anything like vampires, which means we sometimes go to ridiculous lengths to take the formality out of the way we live. Bars, restaurants, and all that kind of shit? It’s basically where all the important werewolf affairs are handled.”

“You’re right,” Sylvie said. “That is weird.”

When Pax returned, he was flanked by Aranelle and Rourk. Aranelle was tall, wiry, and had braided black hair. She always looked like she was pissed off but was otherwise pretty enough.

Rourk was thick muscled with salt and pepper hair. He had a distinctive scar that ran from his scalp, across his eye, over his nose, and finally ended at the corner of his mouth, giving it a permanent, slightly upturned look. I still remembered the day I’d given him that scar.

Aranelle walked straight up to the table and slapped me hard across the face. I saw it coming, but let it happen. Even defending myself at this particular moment could be seen as an act of aggression, and I’d do anything to stop this from turning into a brawl. Vampire or not, Sylvie wouldn’t make it out of something like that in one piece.

“Bastard,” Aranelle spat. “Fucking bastard.”

Sylvie was giving me a silent eyebrow raise. I practically read the question on her mind. Ex girlfriend? I felt a touch of amusement at the idea of her being jealous. She didn’t strike me as the type, but I supposed I hadn’t really exposed her to any need so far.

“Nice to see you too, Aranelle.”

Rourk was a little more cool tempered than Aranelle. He settled for a calm middle finger, which he tucked back into his folded arms once I’d seen it and nodded my acknowledgment.

I could tell Sylvie wanted to ask questions, but she was wisely quiet, letting things play out. Thankfully, the punch to the stomach seemed to have sapped some of the spunk from Kyla, which would make this go more smoothly.

“You have five minutes,” Pax said. “And that’s only to honor who you used to be. You’re lucky I didn’t tear you apart the moment you were fucking crazy enough to show your face here again.”

I dove into the shortest, most concise version of events until now I could. Once I’d caught them up to the present, I decided to take the risk and propose my argument. That was the moment I realized I probably should’ve ran this by Sylvie first, but there wasn’t time for that now.

“Save my friends and I’ll return to Silverback and take back my position as Alpha here. With a rebel made vampire as my mate, we’ll solidify the alliance between our kind and the rebels. It’ll be a bloodless blow against the Coven they won’t be able to recover from.”

Pax looked like he was considering lashing out at that moment.

Taking back my position as Alpha would, of course, mean taking it from him. But part of being the Alpha was defending your claim of dominance. It was always there to be taken by the strongest wolf in the pack. Anyone could make the challenge.

“Sheltering your parents was one level of abomination I’m still not sure any of us should’ve consented to. Submitting to an alpha with a vampire mate would make us a laughingstock.”

“Power is power,” I said. I had to admit being back here at the town of Silverback was dredging up parts of myself that had been dormant for years now. My wolf felt more active than ever, practically begging to be released to run with the pack under a full moon.

Aranelle’s nostrils flared. I remembered how they used to do that when I pissed her off. But she knew I was right.

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