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It was too many maybes to give me true peace of mind, but we had to hope. What else would they possibly be using a newborn baby for?
“An attack, then,” Xander said, staring down at his plate. His eyes sharpened, glinting darkly. “We’ll need to rally the pack. Reach out to our allies.”
“You’ll need the council of elders’ approval for that,” Kingston reminded him. “Though, I can’t imagine they wouldn’t grant it, given the circumstances.”
“Will Clinton throw in with us on this?” Dylan asked.
Xander shrugged. “When we left Portersmith, their pack was already spread pretty thinly. But this is Samuel we’re dealing with here. As long as he lives, Portersmith will be on his radar. If he had the means, I don’t think he’d hesitate to take Clinton out and reclaim Morrow Manor for himself. So, with that in mind… there’s a chance.”
“This is a bloody path you’re planning, Miller,” Denny warned. “Not to say that it’s the wrong one, but your packs have never seen battle, let alone war. And if this drags out beyond a single night, make no mistake, it’s war you’re courting. There will be casualties on both sides. You need to be prepared for that.”
The glint in Xander’s eyes turned to a dark-burning fire as he met Denny’s gaze. “You don’t think I’ve realized that? If there was any other way—”
“I can do it,” I whispered, my eyes going wide.
“What?”
“Samuel—he wants me, remember?” I gripped Xander’s forearm. I needed to, for something to hold onto, before I lost my mettle. “The boys were his second choice for heirs. They’re not what he was really after—just what he could get. But what Samuel really wants is a direct heir. Someone to replace Clinton, someone he can raise in his own image.” I lowered my gaze to my lap. “And he knows I can give birth to alphas.”
Xander shoved his chair back and turned to me. “Cheeks… No. I won’t allow it. What you’re suggesting—it’s too fucked up. I can’t let you. I won’t.”
I looked up at him, my eyes gentle, but my resolve firm. “It’s a good trade. Me for Ryder. Samuel gets what he really wants, and in exchange, he gives Ryder back to you. No one needs to start a war. No blood needs to be spilled.”
Slick, metallic disgust coiled in my stomach. I could still remember the night Samuel had sent for me, like he could order me to his room to obey his will. He hated humans enough to kill them, but he also desired them. I was a fetish for him, a kink, never mind that I was his grandson’s mate.
I was better than a fetish, even. He’d seen Ryder and Rylan, both alphas, both boys. He’d decided that meant I could give him the heir he truly desired.
What I was proposing terrified me. Chilled me to my core.
Still, I meant every word.
“No,” Xander growled again, more forcefully this time. “It’s not happening, for God’s sake. I’m not letting you serve yourself up on a fucking platter for that…that sociopath!”
His aura shot up with the explosive force of a hand grenade. It hit me so hard that I rocked back in my chair. In my arms, Rylan fussed, then began to cry. Kingston and Dylan both turned a little paler. Denny’s jaw and fists clenched.
Only Gena was unaffected. She looked around, confused, like the conversation had just shifted into different language—one she couldn’t speak or hear.
“Calm down,” Denny growled at Xander through his teeth.
I felt his aura spike, too. It was a gentler vibration but still palpably electric. He and Xander stared each other down until, slowly, their auras began to subside.
“Look, I don’t like it either. Too risky.” Denny turned his gaze to me. “It’s a brave thing to offer. Selfless. But… No.” He shook his head. “I can’t get behind this. It isn’t the way.”
“It’s best option we have right now,” I snapped as I rose, holding Rylan to my chest and bouncing him softly as he wailed. “Unless anyone else has any bright ideas?”
“Not right now,” Xander said. “But we will.”
* * *
I left the others to clean up after breakfast and retreated to our room. The intensity of Xander’s aura had upset Rylan badly. It took me nearly an hour to get him calmed down.
It took a while for me to settle as well. Feeling Xander’s aura wasn’t exactly a pleasant thing. My human body didn’t handle it well. If Rylan had experienced even half the wave of nausea and discomfort that I’d felt, I couldn’t blame him for crying. It wasn’t something I was looking forward to experiencing again.
As I put him in his bassinet, my gaze lingered on his tiny, sleeping face. I loved watching him sleep, with his pudgy baby lips gently parted, making sucking motions like he was dreaming about milk. I loved his sweet, powdery scent. I loved the sounds he made, even the loud ones, and the way I could recognize his different cries, each distinct, each calling out to me to communicate his needs.
Most of all, I loved looking at him. Ever since we brought him back from Texas, it had been hard to take my eyes off him. He was a gorgeous baby, easy to look at. If he took after his father—and I very much suspected that he would—he would grow up into a strong, handsome man.
Sometimes, I still found myself worrying that if I let him out of sight for too long, he might vanish again. Blink out of existence. Turn to glitter and blow away on the wind.
