“Watching from nearby,” Tieran confirms. “Which Bryson would expect. She’s a new Omega, he’ll know that we intend to keep her close.”
“So give me some of her clothes as well, or a piece of the nest, and I can lure the Nantahala Wolves to me by scent. It’ll help us split their team, too,” Alpha Lance says.
The mention of the nest has me frowning because Clove hasn’t made a new nest yet. Not even with our clothes.
It’s something that’s been nagging at me all week.
She should be nesting.
Her wolf chose us.
So why isn’t she building herself a proper den?
Because she doesn’t feel fully at peace with us? She hasn’t completely accepted us? Or is it because we haven’t claimed her?
Something has left her uneasy.
It’s something I hope to fix after we handle this mess.
“It’ll also give us probable cause to retaliate,” Tieran adds to Alpha Lance’s points. “We’ll capture the attack on surveillance, use it as proof that he attempted to take out my clan, and return the favor in kind.”
“By killing the Alpha of Nantahala Pack,” Volt translates, grinning. “I like it.”
“It’s a fair retaliation,” I agree. “He’s attempting to take out the future hierarchy of the Black Mountain Pack for the second time in a decade. We punish him accordingly, then send all the evidence to the Elders to back up our decision. They won’t be able to hold us accountable.”
“And they’ll have to release us from Carnage Island,” Volt adds.
“It’s a brilliant end game,” I say. “Assuming you’re ready to take the mantle.”
Tieran looks from Volt to me, then to Clove. “It’s my final challenge,” he says, still staring at her. “All of this. If we do it right, then we’ll be fit to lead.”
“We’re going to do it right.” Volt’s confidence is echoed in Alpha Pan’s expression. Alpha Lance seems a little more reserved, but the glimmer of excitement lurks in his hazel eyes.
I study the other two Alphas I took with me here—Alpha Ebony and Alpha Edwin. They’re both grinning.
Which makes me grin.
“It’s time,” I say.
“It’s time,” Volt echoes.
Then we both look at Clove, curious for her input. But she’s staring at us with an odd expression. Not confusion, necessarily. Just… uncertainty. “You’re going to kill Alpha Bryson,” she says.
“We are,” Tieran confirms, stepping toward her and cupping her cheek. “Does that bother you?”
I hold my breath, curious as to what she’ll say.
She grew up with Alpha Bryson as a leader. Oftentimes packs look upon their Alphas as father figures. It wouldn’t be surprising if she harbors an innate respect for the man, even if he’s a colossal jackass.
Volt appears expectant as well, all signs of excitement fleeing his expression.
Her response matters.
As does her comfort.
If she’s not—
“Alpha Bryson allowed the Santeetlah Pack to rape and murder my mother in front of me. Then he handed me over to the Elders, told them I killed my mother, and said I was feral, all the while knowing the truth—that I didn’t kill my mother and Alpha Canton was the reason I couldn’t shift.” She sounds furious and rightly so. Just hearing her repeat all that makes my blood boil.
It has Volt narrowing his gaze in response as well.
But Tieran is still stoically focused on her, his palm against her cheek, his gaze studying hers.
“Am I bothered by the fact that you want to kill Alpha Bryson?” she asks, repeating the question Tieran just voiced. “Absolutely not. But I don’t understand what you mean by second time. When was the first time?”
Ah, she wants to know about the betrothal. I never told her the full story. Because it’s not my tale to tell. It’s all on Tieran to rewrite the history in her mind, to distinguish the truth from the lies.
“What did Bryson tell your pack about my supposed betrothal to his daughter?” Tieran asks quietly. “Did he say I rejected her by slaughtering her?”
“He told us you rejected her, then you slaughtered her.”
He nods. “Yes, that’s the tale he spun for the Elders, too.” He releases her cheek, his hand falling to her hip as he continues to hold her gaze.
“What’s the truth?” she asks, a note of something in her voice that I don’t quite understand. A knowing lilt. A hint of confidence.