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Sable
I feel wrung out, like someone twisted me all around and hung me out to dry without considering the consequences to my well-being.
Between barricading Cleo from my mind and helping Archer through his deep grief earlier, then spending most of the afternoon scrubbing blood out of the street in front of Malcolm’s house, I’m done. Well-done steak on a too-hot grill done. Too bad for me, life isn’t done asking things of me.
Because now I’m surrounded by the entirety of three shifter packs on the field outside the meeting house, and things aren’t going great.
I should have expected this cacophony of sound and chaos. Clearly, we have a lot to talk about, and some of it isn’t easy. Some of it sucks pretty hard. But I thought, given that several of the most respected elders are leading the meeting alongside my four mates, things would go a little smoother.
That’s probably too much to ask for in a large crowd of people who just lost everything to win a battle they didn’t begin. It’s a miracle the West Pack and North Pack haven’t already gathered up their remaining members and headed back home already.
“Archer, we can’t continue to house the other packs long term,” a small, stooped old woman says over a loud murmur of agreement. “The village is hardly big enough for our own families.”
“I understand that, Mable,” Archer replies soothingly. “That’s why we’re here. If the three packs decide to stay together, we will need to figure out an alternate means of housing everyone. We’ll need to build out and expand the village. Trust me, we’re ready to find answers once a decision is made.”
“I should hope so,”
a middle-aged man speaks up from farther back in the crowd. “My family is sleeping in a tent near the edge of the village, and the canvas leaked last night during the rainstorm. We can’t live like this forever.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Ridge speaks up, which makes me think the man must be one of his. “We’ll see if we can find you a few beds in one of the storage buildings that have been repurposed for sleeping space.”
The older man harrumphs but sits back down on his metal folding chair and consults with the woman at his side. His mate, probably.
I totally understand the strife. If the three packs are going to continue living together long term, something else will have to be done. It’s not possible to keep this up indefinitely. Though wolves are social creatures, they’re also territorial, especially regarding their living space. So the sharing is causing a lot of tension that seems to already be reaching a boiling point.
I, for one, don’t want to be around when it boils over.
But hell, even here at this meeting, the three packs are completely segregated. I recognize a handful of familiar North Pack faces in one area, then a few more interspersed familiar East Pack shifters in another area. There’s a large population of shifters I’ve never seen before, which I can surmise are Trystan’s West Pack members.
If they even separate out for an important meeting like this, will they ever be able to come to an agreement? To co-exist as one large pack without strife?
Archer raises his hands and attempts to quiet the rumbling crowd. Some of the noise peters away, but not all. He ignores the dissenters and speaks over them in a loud, sure voice. “Your concerns have been heard, and they will be rectified. But first, a decision needs to be made. Should arrangements be made to expand the village so that we can all stay together while having our own spaces? We have land that we could build out upon. The North Pack has land we could build out upon. We have options, but without a firm vote, we cannot make any decisions.”
“Or do you wish to return to your own packs?” Ridge adds, his tone saying in no uncertain terms that if his North Pack members wanted to do so, he’d raise holy hell.
I appreciate that he’s willing to fight to keep the packs together, but I know he won’t force the decision on them. That’s not what a good alpha does. If his pack votes to go back to North Pack lands, I don’t think he’d lay down an edict to make them stay.
The thought of that makes my heart constrict tightly. What if the packs do split up? How am I supposed to be mated to four men who live so far away from one another?
As a clamor rises and voices begin to drown one another out again, I let my gaze slide over the crowd and tune out the loudest naysayers. It’s hard enough to maintain control of my barriers against Cleo without my anxiety being heightened by the arguing.
I catch a few glances as I look around, and I’m surprised as people smile at me or wave when we make eye contact. I make it a point to return the smile and wave, no matter how many times I have to do so, because it’s important. There are more people on board with my presence than there used to be, and from my current vantage point, they seem to see me as one of their own.
They seem to… accept me.
Fighting for them in the battle using my magic, and saving numerous lives in the process, must have buoyed their trust in me. A low-level tingle of happiness suffuses me as I continue looking around at the gathered shifters and acknowledging anyone who acknowledges me.
But despite their acceptance of me, the question still remains of whether the packs should stay together or split back up into their respective villages. And that question is debated in loud voices for a long, long time, until my feet grow weary and my eyelids want to close.
Why can’t a group of grown men and women just come to a decision?
In my opinion, we should stay together. We only beat the witches in battle because we joined forces. We managed to hold our own and come out on top in a fight that would have destroyed a single pack in a matter of minutes. If we split up again, each pack will go back to being vulnerable.
Even though the crowd is making their support of me known, I don’t feel like I have a platform to blurt out my opinions. I’m a shifter, but I wasn’t raised on pack lands. All three packs existed for years before I came around, so the decision has to be something they work out amongst themselves without the half-breed sticking her nose in.
Grady, a big man with a shiny bald head, stands up and booms, “I side with Ridge. Our alpha knows best how to ensure our ongoing safety.”
Ridge nods once.
