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“How much do you know about what happened to me?”
“I know you were bitten, otherwise you wouldn’t have needed the cure.”
“Do you know who bit me?”
“Until last night, I had no idea and I couldn’t care less. I still don’t care.”
“Well, that’s a relief…” Avelyn gave him a crooked smile, making sure he saw she was being ironic. Apparently, she had just been saved by a guy who didn’t give a toss about her as a person. Maybe as a test subject…
“Accidents happen,” Viggo continued. “I know the Council likes to think they have everything under control, but humans still get bitten from time to time, especially human brides. If it’s not a rogue shifter set on stirring chaos, then it’s an overly enthusiastic shifter husband who digs his fangs too deeply into his young bride’s neck during mating. When I found out James Harington had given you the cure, the only thing I was interested in was to keep you under my radar and observe how it
worked. Now I know that crazy she-wolf bit you. Sabine… right?” He looked at Max. “Your ex-bride, if I gathered that right.”
“Yes…” Max didn’t particularly enjoy sharing details of his past with a stranger.
“Relax, I don’t care. My interest is strictly personal. Your wife is the first hybrid in the world, and all I want is for her to be safe.”
“But you already know the cure works,” said Avelyn. “What else do you need?”
“I need to see that your child is healthy. Also, have you ever wondered what it would be?”
“We hope it’s a boy,” she answered enthusiastically, her face lighting up with joy. She squeezed Max’s hand.
Viggo smiled indulgently. “I sure hope it is, but that’s not what I meant. Will it be a werewolf? A hybrid? Will it have any human traits at all?”
A small crease appeared on Avelyn’s forehead. Indeed, none of them had thought about that.
“Because if the offspring of a shape-shifter and a hybrid retains both human and shifter traits, then we’ll have to start thinking about the future of humanity. A world populated by hybrids. People with incredibly long lifespans. I can’t even begin to imagine the implications.”
“There they are,” thought Max, “the disadvantages…”
“Anyway, that’s a whole different discussion,” concluded Viggo. “My point is that Avelyn Blackmane has to be kept safe. Whether you trust me or not, I will keep those rogue wolves and foxes away from her. All I’m asking is to let me stick around to see exactly what the cure does in the long run.”
“Speaking of which,” intervened Karl, “what’s the deal with the two fox earths? Why in hell’s name would they ally with a rogue pack of wolves? They’re blatantly violating the peace treaty. And for what? What do they have to gain?”
“I don’t know,” said Viggo.
There was a long pause in the office. Everyone was thinking about Karl’s question and trying to come up with some valid ideas, but it was no use. They would probably end up with far-fetched speculations.
“And, again, I don’t care,” added the dragon-shifter. “Let’s just solve this the only way we can: crush them and make sure no one ever hears about what happened here. Avelyn being bitten by that crazy she-wolf, the newly turned humans, the werefoxes with their hidden agenda, the cure… Let’s crush something that can clearly go badly for everyone. We’ll think about the consequences later, but I assure you they will be less horrible than if we let this reach the Council’s ears.”
“We can’t just kill everyone!” Avelyn jumped to her feet, ignoring Max’s attempts to calm her down. “That’s what you’re saying, right? That we should just kill everyone because it makes things easier for us.”
Viggo crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “You know what they say: dead men tell no tales. In this case, dead shifters tell no tales.”
“That’s awful! It makes me sick! You make me sick!”
“Shh… baby,” cooed Max, “we’re not going to kill anyone. We’re not murderers.” His last words were aimed at Viggo. The weredragon merely rolled his beautiful eyes.
“And it’s certainly not going to happen in my town,” said Miss Delacroix.
“Look,” said Viggo, “we can talk about this for hours, but we all know there’s no other option. So, are we really going to argue about it until the crazy she-wolf attacks again? And, believe me, this time she will be better prepared.”
“No, we won’t,” answered Avelyn. “Because there’s nothing to argue about. We’re not killing anyone.”
“Let me talk to Sabine,” said Christine, her voice weak and tired. She might have been a werewolf, but her hundreds of years were showing on her wrinkled face and in the prominent veins on her arms. “I took care of her for so many years… She’s the daughter I never had. She will listen to me.”
Avelyn sighed. “No, she won’t. I’ve told you before, and I’m telling you again: if there’s anyone she hates more than me and Max, it’s you.”
