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“Mom,” I say, stepping closer to her, and placing my hand on her shoulder. “It’s not the kind of mission that puts me in danger. I won’t be going straight into the lion's den so to speak.”
“No, you’ll just be meeting with humans,” she snarls.
“Mom,” I plead.
“You know what they do,” she challenges.
“Not all humans are the same,” I retort, looking into her eyes.
“No, perhaps not. But a lot are. What they did to your brother and me should be evidence enough.”
“Those were hunters.”
“They were humans who chose a dark path,” she scolds.
The room falls quiet, the weight of our shared history hanging in the air. My mother's experiences with hunters have left scars that run deeper than any physical wound. I understand her fear; it is etched into her every word and gesture. Trace, who has been silent throughout our exchange, finally speaks up.
"Mom, Meredith's not going out there alone. She's with Samara and others who can protect her," he interjects, his voice firm but gentle.
My mother's gaze softens as she looks at Trace, the worry in her eyes fading into resignation. "I know, Trace. It's just... I can't help but worry. You both mean everything to me."
"I promise, Mom, I'll be careful," I assure her, feeling a pang of guilt for causing her distress. "And I'll make sure I keep in touch, okay?"
She nods, the lines on her face softening. "I trust you, Meredith. It's just... hard."
"I know," I say softly, pulling her into a tight hug. "But I'll be back before you know it."
Trace steps forward, joining our embrace. "We'll take care of each other, Mom. Meredith's got this."
Reluctantly, she lets go, wiping away a tear that escaped. "I know you do. Just... promise me you'll be safe."
"I promise," I say firmly, exchanging a glance with Trace, silently reaffirming our commitment to each other's well-being.
As I begin packing for the impending journey, I can’t shake the mix of emotions swirling within me. Excitement for the opportunity to make a difference mingled with the weight of my family's worries. As I look at the few belongings I need to take, I know I am ready to face whatever lies ahead, bolstered by the support and love of my family.
The next morning, I leave a note on the kitchen table, assuring my mother and Trace that I'll be in touch regularly. As I step out of the house, I can’t help but feel the gravity of the task ahead. Still, I square my shoulders, determined to make my family proud and contribute to a better future for all supernaturals.
The next week flies by with Samara and I scoping out the meeting place in Alberta. Rather than meeting in a government building, the human politicians felt it would be safer if we were to meet in a hotel conference room. So, we checked into the same hotel, booked the conference room, and set up some hidden cameras according to Matt’s specifications so that we could livestream the meeting back to the rest of the alphas on the island. Because we know the humans will likely check for them, we had Sebastyn teleport in and use magic to conceal them.
I’m sure that the meeting would go downhill pretty fast if they were to find out that we were recording it. But, like Samara said, even though we’re only bringing a small number of the leaders, the rest aren’t any less important and deserve a seat at the table.
Despite our best efforts, none of the politicians came early, so getting dirt—well more dirt than Matt was able to find online—isn’t an option. We just have to hope that it’s enough to sway them should we need leverage.
“I think we’re ready,” Samara says, walking back toward me and the door after triple-checking that all the cameras are in working order.
I nod in agreement knowing that there isn’t an inch of the room that isn’t visible from one camera or another as well as microphones to catch even the slightest sound. “So, what’s the plan?”
She looks over at me with a smile. “We go downstairs, have some breakfast, and wait for everyone else to show up.”
“And give the humans time to check out the space while hoping and praying that they don’t find any of our cameras.”
“They won't,” she declares, her faith in Sebastyn and Matt unwavering.
“Let’s hope,” I whisper, following her out into the hallway, down the stairs, and into the attached dining area of the hotel.
When we walk in, we find the rest of our group already seated and enjoying their meal, all the alphas dressed in suits and ties at one table and their chosen enforcers, dressed in black tactical gear at another. I join the latter while Samara joins the former.
Unlike the others in our group, I can’t eat. My tiger is restless inside me, pacing back and forth as if she’s caged—which I guess she is. Still, it's uncharacteristic of her. Normally she’s very passive unless needed. Now, it feels like she knows something I don’t. Like she knows something big is going to happen. And I guess if I go by the feeling in my gut, I do too. I just don’t know if it’s going to be a good thing or a bad thing.
