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They will never relent if I can’t offer an alternative. As I take in each face in the room, I realize they are satisfied with their decision. It is up to me alone to find a solution.
I wrack my brain. In the halls of Nightwich, Hunt grinned at me and called Alaric bait….
An idea brews, slowly taking shape. At best, there is a slim possibility that it will work, but I don’t see any other option.
“We will make Elizabeth believe that we’ll turn Alaric over to her, long enough to see my family free.”
Without waiting for further explanation, everyone talks all at once, pointing out the flaws of the idea to negate any merits it has.
A man at the far end scoffs. “He is the queen’s lapdog. If we give him half a chance, he will find his way back to her, begging to lick her boots while telling her everything. It will only put us at risk.”
“You don’t know him. And killing him or holding him prisoner won’t serve your goals.”
“You know nothing of our goals,” a woman on the far side of the table says. “You are merely an interloper here.”
Cutting a glance her way, I ask, “Do you think Elizabeth will simply let the matter go if he is nothing but a corpse?” I shake my head. “She will not stop until she finds whoever is responsible.”
I know I should avoid stepping on toes. Yet there is no time to waste pandering to their feelings or expectations of diplomacy. I am not above issuing a threat if it will stay their hand. Every minute that passes is one less I have to put a plan in motion.
“Elizabeth needs him alive,” I say. The room falls silent. The scholarly man sneers, but I continue before he can speak. “I don’t know how long he has until the curse consumes him. And unless anyone knows of another way to break it, she is the only one who can.”
The scholarly wolf snorts. “She won’t need him alive once she oath bonds him to her long enough to take his power.”
I pull in a shuddering breath. I want to believe she wouldn’t leave him cursed, though I know better. Once Elizabeth gets what she wants, he will have served his purpose.
Except I am standing in her way.
I know little about magic, though it is too real that she could find another way to seize his power without an oath bond.
“Even if she regains control over Alaric, she cannot oath bind him, because he is already bound to me.” I send a pointed glare at everyone, squashing any lingering doubt about my right to be present at this meeting.
A few wolves attempt to stand, retaking their seats when Oliver waves his hand. “What exactly are you proposing, Miss Valmont?”
My idea is half-formed at best. With more time, perhaps I could come up with something that could offer us a better chance at outmaneuvering her. “Make her think she won.”
“I’m listening,” Oliver says, cocking his head to the side.
“When you attacked Nightwich, you went after Elizabeth after her. And when you couldn’t get to her, you took Alaric hostage to use as bait.”
Hunt makes a choking noise. Adalynd levels him with a glare, prodding him in the ribs with her elbow.
“What I propose is this: We use him as bait. I will go under the pretense of returning him. She will expect me to bring whatever show of force I can cobble together—but if I show up alone, it will take suspicion off the pack.” I take a breath. “Once my family is safe… I’ll release Alaric, giving him a chance to get her to break the curse.”
“Why would she believe a human could carry out such a feat?” the scholarly man laughs.
“If she asks, then I will say I used the attack as a distraction and drugged him with nightshade.”
Murmurs fill the room. Many of the wolves wear smirks that make it clear they have no issue with me risking my neck. That ends when Oliver rises from his chair. A low warning rumbles from his chest.
“We led the attack and took her prince captive, so we cannot expect you to clean up our mess,” he says, looking around the room, making eye contact with each member. “Especially when it is you who stands to pay the price for it.”
I shake my head and open my mouth to speak.
“We will remain out of sight. But we will be there to aid you and your family,” he says, tone resolute.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CLARA
