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He needed her to know the truth. “Do you have any idea how many times Harley has saved my ass? A dozen, at least. Maybe two. He’s been my right arm from the beginning. My guards told me he tried to protect the Gordion wolf who got hurt in the dungeon cell? Then he’d been knocked unconscious for interfering, his leg sliced up. He would have been the next to fall to their swords except that my appearance in the hall distracted Sydon’s men. You can ask any of the men what happened.”
Her expression grew grave, her cheeks smoothing out as she held her lips together firmly. Finally, she responded, “I can see that what I’ve said has caused you tremendous distress and for that I’m sorry. I also won’t argue with you about the accuracy of my fae senses; you must judge that for yourself. I only ask that you consider the possibility that something isn’t right.”
He drew a harsh breath through rippling nostrils. “You’re wrong. And if I can’t trust this wolf, then Savage has no chance at all.”
She looked as though she wanted to say more. Her lips parted, then closed several times. Finally, she nodded. “I understand, and I won’t bring it up again. Did you speak with Warren? How is everything else at his compound?”
Fergus was grateful for the abrupt shift in subject. “He’ll be putting steaks on the grill as soon as it’s full dark.” His anger started diminishing in stages. On a rational level, he knew he shouldn’t be so defensive about Harley, but any kind of accusation seemed unthinkable.
However, Mary had powerful fae abilities and he had to respect her concerns.
Mentally setting aside the subject of his second-in-command, he continued, “Warren is worried, of course, and thinks that Sydon is planning to take control of Savage. At this point, we all have reason to be concerned well beyond his attempted takeover of my pack.”
Mary didn’t look any less grim, but her features had started to soften and with a slight curve of her lips, she offered, “And where would we be without some madman making a push to take over the world?”
He chuckled. “You’re right. Some things never change.” He then glanced around. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Then we should go.”
~ ~ ~
Mary wasn’t much of an eat-a-big-meal-first kind of person. But she did appreciate the necessity for wolves, especially of the male variety, to chow down. And the smell of steaks charring on the grill actually brought a couple of rumbles shaking her stomach as well.
By the time Fergus brought her a small ribeye with a side of potato salad, she had no hesitation accepting the plate. She was definitely embracing her wolf-side.
She stuck to her coffee, though. Most of the pack was drinking beer, though she’d heard wolves could metabolize alcohol better than most species.
Coffee, a steak and potatoes. Not exactly a fae first-meal. She usually had yogurt and fruit. But the wolf in her salivated, and she dug in.
A lot of laughter rang around the belowground communal eating area. At least a hundred sat down to share the meal. Though this was Warren’s compound, she’d noticed a similar set-up at the Gordion second level when she’d cruised through in her dream-glide.
She watched another group of wolves serve and do clean-up. “Does the pack have hired help?”
Fergus glanced toward the area where wolves moved in and out of the large commercial kitchen. “No, we all take turns on clean up.”
“Even you?”
He grinned. “All right, most of us work the kitchens. Those of us who serve on the border patrol are allowed to skip our turns, as well as the warriors who guard the compound.”
She held his gaze. “But that makes sense to me. If you lay down your life every night for the good of your territory, you should be given a pass on regular chores.”
Though the tension between herself and Fergus had passed, she still worked hard to restrain the deep anxiety she felt about Harley. She knew something was terribly wrong with the wolf; every fae sense she possessed had gone into overdrive the moment Fergus had mentioned his name. Yet she had no idea what it could be. Harley sounded like a good man.
She’d completely understood Fergus’s anger. He didn’t want to believe anything bad about his most trusted wolf. And if treachery existed with someone so close to him, then who could he ever rely on? But with so much at stake, she knew she couldn’t let her fae instincts rest idle. She could only hope that if Harley was a traitor, his actions would reveal themselves long before she had to confront Fergus again.
For now, she enjoyed her meal as well as the sight of Warren taking care of his pack.
At first, she’d thought Warren would join them. But from the time they’d arrived and he’d shown them to their table, he’d never once sat down. Instead, he moved through the room, and it seemed to her he made an effort to talk to everyone. He had excellent eye-contact. She supposed his pack was used to the scars on his head and face, as well as the partial-baldness and the tattoos.
He was an excellent leader, attentive to his people the way Fergus was with the Gordion Pack. She watched several of the female wolves track him as he moved. She understood. He was powerful, a lot of man to watch.
She felt Fergus’s hand suddenly on her knee, squeezing gently. But it felt more like a warning than a sign of affection.
She glanced at him. By now she’d finished her steak and a server had carried her plate away. With a fresh cup of coffee, she sat with her elbows on the table, the way many wolves did, and supported the mug with both hands.
What is it? she asked.
