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“True…”
“Now, what if I told you someone has been working on it and has recently made a breakthrough?”
“You’d put us both in danger, but… it would be well worth it.” Max could almost imagine the doctor’s smile on the other end of the line.
“I knew you’d understand, Mr. Blackmane. I wouldn’t tell you about this, if I didn’t know you’re a reasonable man who sees the impli
cations and can guess the possible consequences.”
Max thought hard for a few seconds. What was he getting himself into? First, he allowed a dangerous member of his own pack to run amok and possibly hurt innocent people, now he was trying to get an illegal, most likely untested, cure for his bride.
“Doctor, I’d do anything to help Avelyn,” he finally said.
“Good then, let’s not waste any more time. It seems that Harington Pharmaceuticals have managed to create an antidote in their labs.”
“Harington… Does this company belong to whom I think it belongs?”
“Councilor Arthur Harington, yes. Of course, you haven’t heard this from me.”
“It goes without saying.”
“It won’t be easy. The Councilor will never risk his position and reputation by admitting his pharmaceutical company has continued the research and even achieved success when the shifter Councilors have voted against such practices. However, Clan Blackmane is the second most powerful after Clan Voinom, and you and your brother are highly regarded by the Council. You might have a chance to convince him.”
“No, I don’t.” Max sighed in defeat. “That’s not the only problem, doctor. Do you know about his daughter?”
“Lily Harington. Everyone knows she’s a Donation. She’s still at Alma Venus Boarding School, I presume. I don’t remember her being chosen by a shifter yet. It would have been all over the news.”
“Yes, you see… It was not my intention to offend the Councilor, but I’m afraid that’s exactly what I did when I chose Avelyn, a Vulpes bride, over his Lupi daughter.”
“Well, shit. I hope you’ll excuse my vocabulary, but shit.” There was a long pause between them, none of them knowing what to say next. “Don’t lose hope, Mr. Blackmane.”
“Thank you…”
“Maybe there’s another way.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just… think of all the possibilities before giving up.”
“Yes. Yes, I will.”
They exchanged a couple more pleasantries, then Max hung up. He rested his head on his hands, unsure how he should feel about the conversation. On one hand, the idea that someone out there had discovered a cure was exhilarating. There was a small chance it could work and heal Avelyn before the full moon. On the other hand, given his tense relationship with the Councilor and the illegality of his endeavors, there was an infinitesimal chance he’d ever get his hands on it.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t try. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t try.”
CHAPTER THREE
Chaos Unleashed
Trying to find a man who didn’t want to be found was hard. Max had been calling the Councilor’s office in London and waiting for his assistant to put him through all day. He was busy, he was in a meeting, he was out for lunch… She had used all the possible excuses and had no qualms about wasting his time by leaving him hanging on the phone for long minutes, saying she’d check and see if he had time to talk to him, or that he was just wrapping something up and would get to the phone in a minute. Max had been spacing out during dinner, lost in his own thoughts, his anger bubbling dangerously close to the surface.
Even Jocelyn sensed something was terribly wrong and tried to make conversation with Avelyn and Christine. It had proved to be more difficult than she had expected. She missed Ryan by her side. Her Beta’s zero tolerance for drama had always helped her stay sane and grounded when one of her brothers got himself in some serious shit. Alas, she had to make do with what she had. She watched Avelyn push her food around on her plate, taking a lazy bite from time to time and chewing slowly, thoughtfully.
“I’m amazed that you’re not gobbling up your food.” The moment the words left her mouth she realized how stupid and wrong they sounded.
“Excuse me?” Avelyn was glad she hadn’t taken the bite she had been balancing on her fork, or she would have choked on it and spit it right on Jocelyn’s pretty white shirt.
“I mean… with the changes and all.” Jocelyn tried to correct her mistake and take the failed attempt at a conversation on safe ground. “Your sense of taste must have increased already. You can finally appreciate Harold’s cooking at its right value.” She gave her a small, tentative smile. “And then, there are cravings that come with… well, being pregnant.”
