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Cassian’s brows knitted again. Griffin leaned closer to him on his elbows. “What’s wrong, Knox? Did you realize that you don’t know everything? That perhaps you judged me without digging a little deeper?” Cassian stood and Griffin chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one. They’ve been doing it for years, no one knows. And any threat to their secret is quickly eliminated.”
“You should have waited for me, for my pack. If we had gone in together, I could have exposed them.” Cassian spun and pointed a finger at Griffin.
“Your pack wouldn’t have survived, and if they did, they would be hunted until every last one was dead. And that’s without factoring in Samara and what she would do if her allies were attacked,” Griffin said matter-of-factly.
“People who aren’t afraid of death are harder to kill,” Morgan chimed in quietly.
Cassian paced around the apartment, I could practically see the cogs of his mind working on overdrive. “They need to be stopped. We need to do something.”
My heart ached for him. I knew how protective he was, and that protectiveness stretched to all innocent beings. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time, Cass. When we bring Samara down, we can deal with them. She is our biggest problem at the moment,” I said gently. “Sit, we need to plan our next move.”
Cassian stopped and sat down, a weight hung on his shoulders. Morgan stood and grabbed a notepad and pen in the kitchen, she slid it across the table to me. Silence engulfed each of us for a few minutes.
“Okay, game plan. There’s a lot that we need to find out before Samara makes her move, and I think it’s important that we stop her before it happens.” Cassian and Morgan nodded. Griffin slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
We spent the rest of the afternoon talking about our priorities. We agreed that ending the werewolf curse was on top of the list. To do that, we had to figure out how to find Samara, figure out how to get there, and then how to kill her. To find her, we decided we could figure out what Kellan’s pack was helping Samara with and use them to find her.
The feral wolves were next on the list. Cassian wanted to find a way to ease the pain during the change and stop wolves from turning feral.
I also wanted to know more about my real mother and how she tied in to everything, why she never contacted me, and why she never told me who or what I am. Above that, I wanted to know if she was alive, if I had a chance at finding her. Maybe she would fill some of the void in my heart.
Morgan stayed silent through most of the conversation, she only commented a handful of times to suggest where we could find information. She offered, somewhat reluctantly, to help me with my powers, which weren’t completely back yet. I wanted to believe that she really did want to build a relationship, that she could be nice, but something made me hesitate. It was clear that she still had feelings for Griffin. She didn’t see that it wasn’t reciprocated, though. I was pretty sure Griffin didn’t care about anyone that way, and if it weren’t for the bond, we wouldn’t be in his dining room.
After hours of tactic talk, we paused. Cassian clasped his hands on the table, Morgan ran her fingers through her hair, and I picked at my nails again. We seemed to begrudgingly realize that we needed each other to face the impending war. I also realized that no matter how much I wanted my old life back—to be a human with normal worries like graduating, parties, and to crush on Cassian secretly again—that “normal” was a distant memory and this was reality. We all had to accept it. The mood shifted in the room, to something a little lighter, and I breathed deeply.
Griffin glanced at each of us and smiled to himself. He stood and wandered into the kitchen, opened a cabinet next to the huge double door fridge and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. Cassian raised an eyebrow at the alcohol in his hand and Griffin chuckled.
“Don’t look at me like that, Knox. A shot or two won’t hurt, we deserve it. Rumor has it you’re quite the party boy. Well, before the world decided to cave in.” Griffin placed four shot glasses on the table and poured the amber liquid into each. He pushed one in front of each of us. I stared at it for a moment, thinking back to the night in the bar that ended with two dead fae males.
“A shot might make these two drunk.” Morgan smiled, nodding toward me and Cassian. “You know they can’t handle their liquor.” I could feel the competitiveness rise in Cassian.
“Werewolves have a much higher tolerance than witches. If you don’t believe me, you could put your money where your mouth is,” Cassian said as Morgan mirrored his raised eyebrow.
Griffin looked at both of them and grinned. “Challenges aren’t taken lightly in this house, Knox.”
He lifted his glass, Morgan and Cassian followed. I hesitated. It felt so trivial to be drinking or having fun in the midst of chaos.
“Come on, Princess. If anyone needs a break, it would be you,” Griffin encouraged.
Cassian put his hand on mine and winked. I knew we would be facing big challenges. In a few weeks our world could be facing war. We had to face a witch who had more power than half the magic population put together. If rumors were true, and if we failed and couldn’t kill her, thousands would die. The werewolves would be eradicated, Cassian and Griffin wiped from existence. My chest tightened at the thought, tears stung my eyes and my hands shook.
I took a deep breath and looked at Cassian. He smiled encouragingly. I could feel the need to just let go, for tonight. The bad memories strained against it, nearly making me retreat to the bedroom and cry until I had no more tears left.
“What about the change?” I asked.
Griffin gave me one of his usual shrugs. “The apartment has a werewolf safe basement. It might be a little dusty, but it’s secure.”
I looked at Griffin and Morgan and then at Cassian and took a deep breath. “I’m taking the bedroom.” I lifted my glass and tossed the liquid without waiting. Griffin snorted and Cassian’s grin widened. Morgan smiled and the three of them took the shot.
The bourbon burned my throat but it was replaced with a comforting warmth. I coughed and lifted the empty glass. “Does this mean we’re friends?” I wheezed.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Princess. You’re high maintenance.” Griffin scoffed while pouring another shot, but smiled at my expression. He handed the shots to each of us.
“High maintenance, maybe. But at least I still have a personality. You, on the other hand…” I almost spat the bourbon out at his look of surprise.
Morgan’s phone rang. She looked at the screen and walked away to answer it. Griffin held up the shot and we knocked it back in unison.
Morgan came back to the table. “It’s the bar, I need to go. There’s drama. Someone punched a fae guy and they’re breaking things.” She grabbed her jacket and made her way to the door.
