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Not that wise. You saw proof of that earlier.
She nudged the thought aside and smoothed a hand over her hair once more. It was nearly dry and she’d left it to curl wildly around her face, exchanging Donner’s damp shirt for a plain black blouse and jeans, drawing on a pair of boots in murder red.
The boots suited her mood.
She didn’t bother with anything fancy, rarely did.
She was a mermaid, a race that was universally known for being unapologetically beautiful. Under that beauty lay a destructive strength and keen senses.
Some people thought the mer were all beauty on the surface, with nothing much within.
They were wrong.
Meridia’s beauty was a tool to her, a weapon, one second to a mind sharper than most people could even fathom.
Putting through the call, she dropped down at her desk and kicked her boots up onto the scarred surface in a deliberate display of casual disinterest. Nikolai’s face appeared only a second later.
“You rang?” she said, letting the siren song of her voice creep into her words.
He didn’t flicker an eyelash.
“I’m coming into Massachusetts on Therian pack business. I’ll need entry into Provincetown.”
As a Therian Prime speaking to an Atargarian Alpha, this was more of a courtesy call than else, although, Meridia, being the Regnar, had more pull than the other Atlantic Atargarians.
She used that pull now like a blade.
“You didn’t say please, Prime,” she said, smiling sweetly.
“Should I reach out to Olaf instead?”
Meridia smiled, wicked and spoiling for a fight. “Would you like me to call him now? I imagine he needs to be informed of the recent ban concerning one Therian male. He’ll want to know why, of course. He might have questions for you.”
For long, taut seconds, Nikolai simply stared at her.
“Your father won’t deny me entry, Meridia. You know that.”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Of course I know that.”
“Then why are you playing games?” The gold of a wolf’s eyes flashed in warning.
She ignored it and leaned forward. “Because, Prime... I want to hear you say please. And I want you to tell me why.”
Whether or not he’d do it would determine her course of action once he arrived.
He was right. If he contacted her father, the Atargarian Prime of the Atlantic would allow the Therian Prime entry. But Olaf, too, would want to know why.
Olaf didn’t have the protective instincts toward Zee that Meridia did, but he was protective of those who’d been offered protection in his lands—viciously, almost violently so. He knew his daughter had taken Zee in, so his protection would extend to Zee.
“I do this only because you’ve cared for one of mine,” Niko said finally, a dull flush on his cheekbones, one that spoke of an anger even Therian control couldn’t conceal.
“Oh?” Meridia tapped a finger against the corner of her mouth. “And just who is that?”
That flush deepened, and another flash of gold. “Zee.”
Playing dumb, Meridia pursed her lips and shook her head slowly. “I don’t have one of yours by that name here, Prime. The only Zee who lives in Provincetown has been mine for the past seven years.”
The year before that, when Zee had first arrived, she’d hidden away when she wasn’t caring for her kids at the school.
