Page 141 of Contested Crown

“We need to take out Declan fast. Once he’s down, a lot of his guys will give up. How many of them are just fighting because he’s signing their paycheck?” I raised both eyebrows, letting that sink in. “As soon as somebody else is behind the money, they’re going to get in line.”

“Sounds good, boss.” Heather’s words were low, certain. “It’s nice to have an alpha again.”

The word sent a thrill up my spine, and I grinned at her, wolfish and certain.

When I looked over at Cade, I saw a hint of Basil peeking out from under his collar, a flicker of tongue exposed under Cade’s high-necked shirt before disappearing. I blinked, realizing I needed to come clean before it blew up in my face. I couldn’t tell them I was different from every other alpha if I was keeping secrets like every other alpha.

“I have to show you something.” I didn’t look at their faces, focusing instead on my own hands as I reached down and pulled off the soft shirt Rhys had given me.

Nia inhaled sharply, the only one who had an appropriate reaction.

“You got new ink? That’s… cool, boss.” Joel looked left and right at Heather and Gabe, both older and more senior than him, unsure what his reaction should be.

They stared at the lines, frowning. Gabe’s knee started jittering, jumping up and down nervously when one of the swirls of ink moved.

It was still shaped like a bramble, blackberry blossoms growing white among the dark lines. Fruit sat heavy, buried under protective layers of thorns.

“Wait, did that flower just move?” Joel asked uncertainly, glancing between Heather and Gabe again.

“What is this?” Heather demanded.

They didn’t know. No one outside the mage community knew what it might mean. When I had first seen Tyson’s neck, covered in thick tattoos, covered in magic, I hadn’t known what it meant, just that something about it felt wrong—some part of it violated the very nature of what it meant to be a wolf.

“It’s magic.” There was no dancing around it, no pretending that it was just for show.

Nia nudged my knee with hers, giving me a sharp, narrow-eyed look before glancing at Cade.

“No. I’m not a consort.” I said the words to her but then looked around the rest of the circle, where everyone else was shifting uncomfortably, aware there were things they didn’t quite understand and not liking it.

“Okay.” Joel wet his lips. “So, it’s, like, decorative?”

“No. Something happened when I got a dose of Thorn—or whatever it was before it was Thorn. Leon gave it to me before Cade and I got away from House Bartlett. He and Declan have been working on it, that’s what he said.” I wasn’t sure how to say the rest, but I tried to be as truthful as I could. “We discovered part of what the drug does. It drains our magic.”

“Wolves don’t have magic,” Heather said, her brows drawing together, her eyes still fixed on the moving lines of tattoo.

“We do. We don’t think of it as magic because it’s just who we are. But our wolves? That’s magic.” I let my hands rest, palms open, no sign of discomfort. “Cade discovered if he gave me magic, if he cut it off from himself, then the damage was minimized. I could still shift. My wolf was still intact. And I can do magic.”

“Magic like you just said, like our wolves are magic?” Joel asked, his brain clearly trying to wrap around an entirely new worldview.

“No. Like this.” I reached for my shoulder, drawing the vine through the skin until I held a tense line of it between my hands. “Like a weapon.”

Carefully, I replaced it back on my arm, until it disappeared into my skin. The wound where it had come through healed quickly, leaving only a scab of blood behind.

Heather swore but then looked at Nia shrewdly. “Can you do that?”

Nia’s eyes were narrowed on me, flicking between the line of tattoo and my face. She shook her head sharply.

From my memory of how Tyson had used the magic during our fight, other wolves could only activate spells. Their mages had to be the ones who gave the magic purpose and direction. Whatever Cade and I had was different, special.

The idea settled in me. Whatever we had was different, unique among every relationship between wolf and mage in the world.

“But you’re not a consort? You’re not a slave?” Gabe asked.

I shook my head. “No. I’m your alpha, and he’s my mate.”

No one seemed surprised, but the words had a ring of power to them, as though in continuing to claim Cade, I had given both of us more strength.

“So, when is this party starting?” Joel shadowboxed in the air, pretending to do a right hook. “Because I am ready to take on some of those musclebound beefcakes who think they’re better than me just because they aren’t working a corner.”