Page 34

THIRTY-FOUR

Reed

D warven medics swarmed around us, shoving me out of the way to slide a bleach-white stretcher under Elodie. One of them told Fiona to climb onto the stretcher with her to keep pressure, and then they were jogging, and I was following, with Gael and Leigh not far behind.

Thank the Goddess, Leigh was okay; but we were not out of the woods.

We’d been openly attacked in the streets, and with Elodie gravely injured… we were nowhere near safe.

I needed to call Kane, request backup, and let the maidens know what had happened, how Elodie had sacrificed herself to save her charge. How I’d utterly failed, both at diplomacy and at keeping my pack mates safe.

There would be time for self-castigation later. Right now, I had to keep an eye out for further threats and promise whatever it took to anyone who could save Elodie.

After that, I’d spend my whole damn fortune if that was what it took to get my pack mates safely out of this fucking cave.

We were running full speed by the time we arrived at a side entrance of the dwarven castle, much less grand than the front, with nothing over the door to mark it except a simple red symbol.

The medics with the stretcher didn’t slow as they reached the door, and it whipped open automatically for us to all sprint through.

They were yelling in dwarven, more medics swarming the stretcher as it was slid onto a metal frame, and within a minute, a dwarf in a headlamp and a white tunic replaced Fiona where she kept pressure on Elodie’s gaping wound.

Elodie was still breathing as the medical team urged the four of us back and into a nearby waiting room.

“We’ll let you know as soon as we have news,” the nurse who’d led us down the hall said politely before shutting us in.

Some might have described it as cozy, but my wolf was raging in my chest, demanding his freedom to go tear the heads off the troll bodies we’d abandoned in the alley, and I wasn’t capable of appreciating the little potted plants or the fluffy blankets thrown over the cushy seating.

And then Fiona slipped her hand into mine, looking up at me with big, blue and gold eyes full of sorrow, and the rage was extinguished in a single whoosh of connection as I hauled her against my chest and buried my face in her hair.

“That was so awful,” she whispered, and I stroked her back, lost for words to tell her otherwise.

It was awful, and I hadn’t been able to protect her from the experience.

Yet another way I’d failed my pack today. Self-loathing clogged my throat, and I held her tighter.

I looked up when Gael cleared his throat, an apologetic look on his face. “One of us needs to go back, see if there’s anything on the bodies to give a clue why we were attacked here. Those trolls weren’t Petró’s MO. That was a new threat.”

He was right, of course. I mentally shook myself, temporarily set aside the internal flogging, and focused on next steps.

“I agree. I’ll go and examine the site. You stay here and protect our mates. Let me know the second you hear any news about Elodie.”

“Our phones are still in the alley somewhere, after the shift.”

I nodded, kissed Fiona with a promise to return quickly, then let the shift flow through me, releasing my wolf.

* * *

I followed my nose back to the scene of the attack, the earthy, deep musk of six male trolls easy to pick up from a distance. There were dwarven peacekeepers at the scene, but they waved me on when they spotted me, clearly knowing who I was and why I had returned, even without my ability to speak to them in this form.

Thankfully, they’d left the scene pretty much as it was, and I quickly spotted Gael’s and my shredded clothing, and our slightly dented but still functional cell phones in the piles of fabric scraps. I nosed those aside, then circled back to examine the scene. The trolls had obviously left the dinner shortly behind us, coming straight here to attack us. Their entrance to the alley was the same as ours, save the one troll who hadn’t stayed with the group and had headed us off in the side alley.

He was the leader with the carved tusks—a fact still evident with his destroyed skull—so if any of the bodies had a clue as to who’d sent them, it would likely be him. After a perfunctory sniff and nosing the many pockets on the four other fallen troll bodies found nothing of interest, I focused on the leader.

There were many interesting things in his pockets, and after I’d scented everything—including the second alley the leader had taken to cut us off—I shifted back to human form to dig out the various items more carefully. It was a grisly business, but I needed to know everything I could to report back to my Alpha. It was a known fact we had enemies, but if they were going to keep cropping up, we needed to know where the next threat was coming from so we could protect ourselves better.

Most of the items were typical troll possessions, which I examined and then set to the side of the body for the peacekeepers. A hunting knife, leather armor, trinkets from a female back home. But one item stood out, had my blood boiling. I palmed it quietly, keeping it private from the peacekeepers going over the scene with a fine-toothed comb.

Done with my investigation, I gathered up our possessions from the alley and gratefully accepted a pair of pants from one of the dwarves at the perimeter of the crime scene. Gray sweats seemed to be ubiquitous, something other species kept on hand to clothe wayward shifters, but I was grateful nonetheless.

One last thing occurred to me just before I left the scene. I turned around and strode across to the fallen troll, dwarven hammer still clutched in his death grip. I pried it out of his hand.

I still drew stares as I wandered the streets bare-chested and two feet taller than the dwarven citizens with one of their gleaming hammers in my fist, but not nearly as much as I would have completely in the nude. Next, I returned to the dignitary’s lodgings, where the concierge directed me to the trolls’ rooms with a nervous tinge to her scent that was easy to pick up even in human form.

Other than a roaring mess, the rooms were clean of clues, as if they’d known they’d be making a hasty exit, and taken all their belongings with them when they went to dinner. I quickly stopped for a shirt and grabbed a spare black tee for Gael and then made my way back to the medical center, the damning evidence nearly burning a hole in my pocket all the while.

I could hear low voices through the waiting room door and pushed my way in, hoping it was a doctor providing an update on Elodie’s condition.

Instead, it was King Cysernaphus, addressing Gael, who stood between Fiona and Leigh. All three of them were listening intently to his pretty speech.

“We deeply regret that the trolls chose to break the rules of diplomatic visitors on our turf, but please assure High Alpha Kane that the dwarves are staunch supporters of his rule, and we are aggrieved that this terrible wrong was done on our soil.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be able to do that.” It was sheer force of habit that kept my tone steady and even, because my rage was thick enough to choke a horse. Even a hearty dwarven steed.

“Alpha Monstru, I was wondering where you’d gotten off to,” the king said coolly.

“Just investigating the trolls who attacked us and grievously wounded our warrior maiden escort.”

“As I was saying, this was a horrible event, but surely you can’t hold us responsible for the actions of other visiting?—”

I pulled the coin from my pocket and flipped it in the air. It spun toward him with perfect accuracy, and he snatched it from its arc with the grace of a warrior.

His ruddy cheeks paled as he looked up from the coin in his grip. “Where did you get this?”

“The interior pocket of the lead troll who attacked us. It was inside his leather breastplate.”

“I can assure you I have no idea how he got this, but?—”

“I’d stop right there if I were you, Cysernaphus.” I dropped the hammer I still carried to the stone floor with a discordant clang. “We both know that they didn’t steal that. It’s a royal boon, minted only in the hearts of your dwarven cities for the royal family to promise favors for those who do their dirty work. That one is stamped with the queen mother’s personal imprint, and we both know exactly what that implies. Combined with the fact that my mate sensed that our desserts straight from the royal kitchens had been tampered with? Let’s drop the pretenses.”

He was silent for a beat, and I wasn’t sure if he was going to continue his fruitless denial or admit that his own damn mother had backed him into this position. The desserts had probably been something meant to make us drowsy, easier targets.

If Fiona hadn’t spotted whatever was in them, this night could have ended completely differently.

Because a hired hit by the queen mother of the dwarven people against the high alpha’s diplomatic party who were visiting on official pack business?

It was an all-out cry for war. He couldn’t walk it back without disavowing her, and if he did that, he’d be turning his own flesh and blood over to the wolves—metaphorically and literally speaking—which would almost certainly cause a riot among his people. She would be fair game as a high-value political prisoner with no protection, and he would be reviled for his lack of loyalty and weakness.

From all fronts, it was political suicide.

He clenched his fist around the coin as if he wished he could crush it to dust. But it was dwarven forged, and nothing short of molten lava could destroy it.

“What do you want?”

“Besides going back to the point where someone under my protection was nearly killed, my pregnant pack mate was taken hostage, and we were all attacked under your mother’s orders while under diplomatic immunity?”

He grunted his annoyance, not breaking my gaze.

“I want you to honor the chit.”

His eyes narrowed, and I could practically see his fury in the deep lines etched between his eyes as he scowled at me. “Think carefully about what you’re about to say next.”

“We came here on our high alpha’s orders with a simple request. Give us a fair deal to return that which was stolen from our pack in the first place. It rightfully belongs to us, and as the legal holders of that royal boon, I now demand that you honor the high alpha’s request. We will have the omega stone from your possession for a fair trade, or we will let it be widely known that the dwarven royal family no longer honors their boons, their word is no good, and neither is their diplomatic protection.”

I could hear his back teeth grinding together, but I didn’t give a fuck if he was pissed off. I had him over a barrel, and we both knew it.

He slammed the coin down on the side table next to me with a flattened palm. “Fine. You’ll get your stone. But you’re not going to like the price.”