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Please, Memnon, I say down our bond,can we get through this without you resorting to violence?

The sorcerer glances at me, and his glowing eyes dim and soften, until all that anger is banked.If that’s what you wish,est amage, then yes, I will try to control my visceral need to punish each one of these dogs.

“All right,” Vincent calls out. “We’re all ready in here.” With that, the shifter re-enters the cabin, leaving me, Kane, and Memnon alone once more.

My mate nods to the cabin. “This meeting cannot involve everyone,” he says to Kane.

“This is how our pack does things.” Kane’s growl continues to rattle between his words, and his voice is low and rough. “We are all entitled to know about what killed our pack mate.” There’s so much fire and anguish rolling off him.

Memnon slips his hands into his pockets, and to the unknowing eye, he is all poised confidence. But his body sways just a little, and I remember that he lost a lot of blood by the time he got to me. “I don’t care about what you think you’re entitled to or how your pack handles its shit. If you want me to go in there and explain how it is I came across your pack mate’s body, then you’re going to need to limit your fucking audience.”

Kane’s growl deepens, and his lips curl back, revealing partially shifted teeth.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Kane, I won’t make Memnon go in there and explain the situation unless you can do this for us,” I say, trusting Memnon’s reasons for this demand. I imagine this has something to do with limiting the number of people who know what we do.

Kane takes several deep breaths, and slowly, the growling quiets and his teeth grow blunt. “Fine,” the shifter bites out, “but no one’s going to like it.”

Uproar.

That’s what we’re met with when the shifters pour out of the cabin ten minutes later and Kane escorts us in.

The group of lycanthropes is no longer quiet, now that whatever they believed was going to happen no longer is. I hear sobs and growls among them as we pass into the building. Some of the people who so openly welcomed me last time are now glaring at me.

They want blood. I can all but sense their lust for it. They thought they were going to get it tonight, either from what Memnon might reveal or from Memnon himself.

“Everyone,” Vincent, the Marin Pack alpha, calls from the back of the room to those who still remain inside, “you will get answers. Be calm. Once we have heard what our friend and her mate have to say, we shall share what news we can. They have mentioned that their information is sensitive in nature and that, for the overall good of the pack, it must only be given to a few trusted ears.”

Kane leads us to his alpha.

When he intercepts us, Vincent nods to me, then Memnon, his expression grim. “Vincent,” he says, extending his hand, “alpha of the Marin Pack.”

My mate takes it and gives it a shake. “Memnon,” he says, leaving it at that. The sorcerer has sheathed his earlier anger, but I can still see it glinting in his eyes.

“Nice to meet you,” Vincent says, even as a few nearby wolves growl. “We don’t need to wait for the last of the pack to exit. We have a sufficiently secluded room. This way.”

Memnon and I are brought to a soundproof room, one that’s small and clearly meant for only a dozen or so people to fit inside. I see a transparent green ward glittering across the threshold, though I cannot tell what it’s for.

Memnon’s magic unfurls as he enters the room, his indigo power moving over the walls and floor of the space. After a moment, I realize he’s erecting his own ward, this one likely to protect his interests, whatever those may be.

A single long table runs the length of the room and mounted on one of the walls is a whiteboard.

“Please, take a seat anywhere,” Vincent says.

Memnon sits at the far end of the table, lounging in one of the proffered seats like an indolent king. I take a seat next to him and watch as the rest of the pack files in.

First is Vincent, followed by a willowy woman with golden-brown skin and a halo of tight corkscrew curls framing her face. I sense that she’s quick to laugh, but right now, her features are hard, and her glimmering brown eyes are sharp. Behind her is Kane, who comes to sit directly on my other side, his sandy-blond hair mussed, probably from running his hand through it so many times.

Last to enter is an old woman with light brown skin, wide cheekbones, and a waterfall of wrinkles across her face. Her thick white hair is wrapped in a braided bun at the nape of her neck.

She closes the door, and she and the remaining shifters take their seats across from me.

“I trust you both already know Kane, the alpha who will take over for me once I retire,” Vincent says, gesturing to my old crush. “But as for the others, next to me is Irene, my beta and the second-in command,” he says, indicating the willowy woman next to him. “And this is Apani,” he says, gesturing to the white haired shifter, “our pack elder. They are here as they arethe most crucial members who help run the pack and guide the decisions we make.”

I nod to them. “Nice to meet you,” I say.

Memnon does nothing more than idly watch the shifters, like they’re tonight’s entertainment, and they’re boring him.