Page 32

THIRTY-TWO

Reed

S omething was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. The walk in had been smooth. Too smooth? We’d declined the sauna invite, which meant we were starting on a bad foot for our negotiations, but so far, there had been no backlash.

They’d let us all keep our weapons, which was typical for a diplomatic party. Barely batted an eye at the fact that we had a warrior maiden with us. Maybe it was as simple as the fact that after a week of sitting around waiting for no damned reason, I expected more trouble in getting to the dinner itself.

And yet, when the two liveried footmen opened the front doors of Neftheim Palace for us, it was with hearty cheers of “Mighty welcome!” and offers to tuck our coats away.

Smooth as butter, and that was the rub.

Nothing about interacting with the dwarves was typically smooth, let alone easy . The week of sitting on our thumbs was much more their style. So why the sudden ingratiation?

I didn’t know, and what I didn’t know could very well hurt not just our party, but our whole pack. And so I was on edge as we were led to the grand dining hall, which had ceilings at least three-stories high and massive fireplaces at either end, fed automatically by wood conveyor belts.

The room was set with multiple long, rectangular tables, enough to hold a feast of hundreds. Based on the commotion of the guests already inside, it looked like that was exactly what we were going to experience tonight.

I pulled Fiona a little closer to my side, not sharing her wide-eyed wonder at the beautiful interior of the palace. I could feel the impending threat, I just couldn’t see it.

When the dwarf leading us stopped at the king’s table—evidenced by the giant, gilded throne inset with a rainbow of gemstones that sat at the head of it—I pulled out a chair for Fiona and leaned in to whisper to Gael.

“Anything about this feel strange to you?”

“Yes. I can’t place it, though.”

I nodded, and our eyes met for a split second before we took our seats. I sat closest to the end, near the king, followed by Fiona, Elodie, Leigh, and Gael at the other end. We hadn’t planned it any particular way, but clearly, we both wanted our mates protected from all sides.

Elodie’s big-ass sword gave me a measure of comfort. She might look like any other lady here in her sparkling knee-length gown, but I’d seen her sparring with Gael’s sister during our stay, and I knew she could kick ass if the situation called for it.

We weren’t alone for long. Other guests filtered in to fill our twenty-seater table, mostly dwarves, all dressed in splendid finery. I was more surprised by the contingent of trolls who were seated at the foot of the table, farthest from the king and the queen mother. It was a full battalion of six, bare-chested with their leather armor strapped on even at the dinner table. One had elaborately carved tusks, identifying him as the leader of their battalion.

The queen mother arrived at the table before her son. Positively ancient, her face had so many creases and folds, her eyes were like hard, jeweled green pits recessed into the crevices. Her hair was wispy and white, but so long, she had to throw it over the arm of the chair to avoid sitting on it. The very tips had a dusky tinge, as if the last bit of her natural color wouldn’t quite let go.

She scanned the table, passing over us as if we were of no importance rather than honored guests, and without a word, she lifted her goblet for the waitstaff to fill with mead.

I didn’t bother trying to engage her. She had a long history of being xenophobic. The fact that we were outsiders made us unworthy in her eyes, and many before me had tried and failed to change it, so I wouldn’t bother.

No, the king was the one who mattered.

When he arrived, a hush fell over the hall. He strode into the room with all the gravitas of a Viking lord of old. Long, blond locks trailed behind him, and when he arrived at our table, he held his great two-headed war hammer up high, threw back his head, and released a dwarven yell that rattled the stone under our feet.

It was a move meant to assert dominance, to intimidate—and on many, it probably worked. But alpha wolves were unimpressed by noise. We only respected strength.

Despite the dwarven king’s desire to put on a wholly unnecessary show, one would be a fool to mistake him for all bluster. He was a warrior, a true leader among their kind.

“Mighty welcome, King Cysernaphus.” I stood, extending my hand for him to shake.

“Mighty welcome, Alpha Monstru.”

We locked eyes as he leaned in and shook it, neither of us looking away. Dominance wouldn’t allow me to in the presence of a nonwolf leader. It would be a sign of weakness my wolf refused to accept. Only when he pulled back and gestured toward the empty seat beside his mother did I notice his lady companion.

Ambassador Blackkhert. She settled in across from us with an almost smug smile—not fully, not enough to be inappropriate, but close enough—and blatantly looked down our group, sizing each of us up in turn.

“Well, aren’t we a lucky clan of dwarves to have the new high alpha’s closest advisers supping at our table.” She whipped her napkin out to the side with a flourish before settling it over her lap.

She was beautiful in the stocky, rugged way of dwarven females, with long red hair and golden-brown eyes. And from the way she was eyeing Gael, she was hoping those looks would get her a wild night with a shifter.

Unfortunately for her, an honorable wolf would rather chop off his own dick than touch a female that wasn’t his fated mate, and Gael was as honorable as they came.

I cleared my throat. “We are the lucky ones that the king was able to squeeze us into his packed schedule. A run on trade goods this time of year, or was it political business?” I stared her down, letting her know that I was not some schmuck fresh off a peach truck that she could swindle. If she wanted to play games with me, she was going to have to get a lot better, and fast.

She laughed, a nervous edge to the sound. “Oh, you know how it is.” She held up her goblet, and a server bustled over to fill it, tidily giving herself a pause to regroup.

“Your city is lovely. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” Fiona spoke up at my side, and pride filled me at her perfect comportment. She had a knack for timing, and the king beamed at the compliment, the yin to my yang.

“Mighty thanks, mighty thanks! And who might you be, my lovely little flower?”

Fiona blushed, shooting me a look out of the corner of her eye before answering. “Fiona, Your Highness. I’m Reed’s…”

I could sense her starting to flounder and quickly placed my hand over hers on the table. “She’s my fated mate. The bond is still new between us.”

“Well then, we’re doubly lucky you’ve chosen to bring your lovely mate-to-be along to grace us with her presence.”

Before we could say another word, servers arrived at the table, positively burdened with the sheer heft of the trays they carried. Platters of food were laid on the table before us, both mundane and wild, fanciful and plainer fare done up with extra flair.

“What is that?” Fiona whispered as a tray so massive it required two servers to carry it was placed in the very center of the table.

“Spit-roasted varganbist,” I murmured. “Dwarven delicacy. Very… earthy.” Earthy was the politest thing I could say about the creature that was basically a giant naked mole rat. Its protruding incisors were yellowed and wickedly sharp, blackened at the tips from the fire roasting it had received in the kitchens.

They were prized more for the skill that was required to hunt them than they were for flavor, but saying so would be in poor taste.

Fiona tried and failed to hold back a shudder as the monstrous beast was carved table side, and politely declined her own slice when it was offered.

Once everyone’s plates were full and the rest of our party was eagerly chatting with one of our table companions—Fiona had taken up chatting about photography with a dwarven inventor across from us, who was ignoring his plate in favor of avidly examining a very small digital camera, which I didn’t even realize she’d smuggled in in her coat pocket—I turned slightly toward the king, lowering my voice.

“As you know, I’ve been sent on request from my high alpha to discuss an urgent matter with you.”

Cysernaphus grunted his acknowledgment, scraping out his empty bowl of stew with a crust of hearty bread.

“You conveniently left out what the matter was in all your missives. I don’t appreciate coyness from my dinner companions.”

“I can assure you it was not playing coy that necessitated our vague requests. It was a matter of security.”

Cysernaphus dropped his bowl with a graceless clatter to the table, wiping his hands as he finally focused his attention on me.

“What is it you lot want? Tell it to me straight, or after our dinner, you may take your leave of Neftheim’s hospitality and tell your high alpha that heads of state expect visits from other heads of state, not their lackeys.”

Shit. I knew he was keeping us waiting because he was offended, but clearly, the newly mated excuse didn’t go over well with nonwolf leaders.

“I completely understand, and I have no desire to linger and take up more of your time than is necessary. It has come to our attention that you have the omega stone in your treasury. As the stone has long been in the protection of Pack Caelestis?—”

“What kind of fucking imbecile do you take me for?” the king hissed, eyes practically spitting rage as he slammed his fist down on the table.

Everyone down the long table went silent, all eyes on us before Cysernaphus angrily waved them back to their own conversations. They resumed talking, but no less than half of them had one ear turned our way.

I lowered my voice. “I take you for a king who understands that actions taken in the past—while deemed necessary at the time—can cause intergenerational wrongs, and as the current leaders of our people, sometimes we must undo those mistakes.”

He was silent for a beat, lips pursed, and I had one moment of hope that he was actually considering my words. “You want not just an item from my treasury, but that ? There’s a reason it’s locked up, and a damn good one.”

“I’m prepared to compensate you fairly in exchange for the return of the item in your treasury that was stolen from Pack Caelestis during the omega wars.”

“No. And I want you ungrateful fleabags out of my city before dawn, or I’ll throw you out.” The king tossed his napkin down on the table and scraped back his chair as he pasted on a smile.

If you hadn’t watched him flip the switch, you’d never know it was fake. He left the great hall slowly, laughing and slapping the backs of his people as he worked the crowd on his way out the door.

And I was completely, utterly fucked.

* * *

The rest of the dinner dragged as I kicked myself internally for botching the negotiations so badly. I had known Cysernaphus was reticent to see us, but I had falsely assumed he’d want to play ball with the new high alpha. Clearly, based on his derogatory slurs, he was not only not interested in playing ball, he was willing to burn the very bridge we stood on.

Now I had two options: go back to Kane with my tail between my legs—not happening—or figure out a plan B.

I was no thief, but there had to be a way to get that stone. Fiona’s hand landed on my thigh, jarring me from my self-flagellation.

“Well, the night is suddenly looking up,” I joked, reaching over to rest my own hand on her knee under the table.

She smiled up at me, but I could see worry in the depths of her eyes. Leaning in close, I whispered, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure. There’s something… off about one of the dessert trays. Don’t be obvious, but check out the waiter closest to us. About half of the little glasses on that tray are shiny?”

“Shiny? What does that mean?”

“It means they’ve been magically messed with. I don’t know what was done to them, but…”

The likelihood of the king trying to outright poison us was slim, given how recently he’d left and the amount of time it would take to plan something of that magnitude. Also, telling us to go fuck ourselves was insulting; killing us would start a war between the packs and the dwarves, and one to one, the odds were even at best that the dwarves wouldn’t be overwhelmed, let alone wiped out.

Regardless, if she thought it had been tampered with, there was no telling what the contents of those cups might do to us.

Wolfsbane could make a wolf wish he were dead, after all.

“Don’t touch it, and pass word down the table not to touch it.”

“Okay,” she whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek before turning discreetly to Elodie on her other side.

We excused ourselves quickly once the dessert had been served, and no one commented on our untouched gelato.

Shame they were tampered with. They smelled mouthwatering.

As soon as we were out of the castle and on an empty side street, we paused so I could fill the others in.

“That bastard,” Gael growled.

I waved off his anger. “It’s probably my fault. I tried to take the moral high ground first. I should have started with the financial benefit to him. Dwarves are notoriously reluctant to part with their treasure. But now we’re stuck. He wants us out of the city, but we don’t want to leave empty-handed. We need a fresh idea, and fast.”

Elodie spoke up next. “What if I tried to sneak in? Lisanne gave me an invisibility potion from the local witch. It might be enough to get me past whatever guards he has stationed on the stone, get it, and then get out.”

“Noble, but there’s no way he’d have something that valuable protected by just a pair of guards. It’s going to be in some vault somewhere deep in the mountain, and we don’t know where that is or how to access it.”

She frowned, shrugging. “That’s all I’ve got, unless you want to do this the hard way”—she pointed a thumb at her sword—“but we’re more than outnumbered.”

“What if—” Leigh started as a clatter of boots on stone at the end of the alley made us all freeze, turn.

When the first troll rounded the corner, it took me only a split second to register the double-bladed axe clutched in his meaty green fists.

My first thought was for Fiona, and I bodily shoved her behind my back before she had even registered what was happening.

There was a soft shing as Elodie unsheathed her butterfly sword and kicked off her heels, while Gael and Leigh were both growling low in their throats.

One moment of pause. That was all there was before the trolls charged, no showy battle cry on their lips as they barreled down the alley toward us.

“Fiona, run!” I barked the command, and then my wolf burst out of my skin.