MATE! Every atom of Finlay’s existence demanded that he shift, sniff, and track the pretty man with the beautiful wings. He held himself back through sheer force of will.
One, he was in a public convention center and the moment he shifted, he’d bring undue and likely negative attention to the Luna Pack. Paranormals were expected to control themselves in public, and every paranormal leader in the state would gossip about him for months if Finlay let go of his wolf.
Two, it wasn’t like he could track the man on two feet or four.
Finlay wasn’t sure if his mate was elf or fae – he was so swamped by how the man’s scent made him feel.
It wasn’t as though he could just scan that scent and match it to the catalog of common scents he held in his brain.
His mate disappeared – there one minute and gone the next - and there was no way Finlay could track anyone who did that by conventional means, no matter how much his wolf might want to.
And then there was item three. The reason Finlay’s feet were frozen to the floor. His mate, with the wicked scar, seemed to hold his brother, Morgan, as the one responsible. He specifically said Morgan lied about it. But lied about what?
It must’ve been ten minutes, maybe more, before Finlay could force his feet to move enough so he could leave the small prep room. He was loathe to leave the only trace of his mate’s scent, slight as it was, but hanging onto a scent wasn’t going to help him get answers.
Finlay knew for certain he couldn’t see his brother in that moment. Before everything else, Morgan was playing host to eighty-odd guests, so confronting him wasn’t an option. Even with his disjointed thoughts, Finlay knew better than to do anything to cause any damage to Morgan’s reputation.
But as he walked through the convention lobby, stopping to grab a packet of cigarettes from the vending machine and buying a lighter from the small kiosk next to reception, on his way out the door, Finlay realized the cryptic words his brother mentioned about being cruel might actually have some substance after all.
What could be crueler than lying about an injury he’d caused?
Lighting a cigarette, Finlay leaned against the hood of the car, staring up at the stars.
One of the reasons he was good at what he did was because Finlay had a unique skill that enabled him to pick out pieces of random information and pull them all in together until they formed a cohesive picture.
Although I haven’t got a lot of pieces to work with right now.
A magical being…scarred face…lies…cruelty…an injury caused by Morgan? Finlay wasn’t sure about that last part. But he couldn’t deny the scar on the magical man’s face could definitely have been caused by a claw.
A mark of shame perhaps…penance…working and living as human even though he still has magic…
Finlay’s skills were deserting him. He puffed on his cigarette, blowing large plumes of smoke into the night air, before stubbing it out on his boot and putting the butt in his pocket.
It would help if I had the man’s name at least. Then I could search the shifter records and see what the case details were. There has to be one. The man basically said he was being punished.
Then Finlay groaned and tapped his head. He didn’t need his mate’s name to find the case records. He knew his brother’s name as well as his own. Pulling his phone from his suit jacket pocket, Finlay typed in a web address very few people knew, accessing the back end of the Shifter Council database.
Adding his brother’s name to the search, Finlay frowned as he saw three entries.
The first two were typical of all shifters.
There was a notification of Morgan’s birth and then the formalization of Morgan’s position as Alpha of the Luna Pack after their father’s death.
The third entry was a sealed court case that fell on the year before the second entry.
It wasn’t a public file and required a security code to open.
And I just happen to have an override code, Finlay thought grimly.
Case files were only secured in the most serious of cases, or in situations where the details becoming public could cause an issue to a high-ranking figure.
Tapping on the link, Finlay entered his code and lit a second cigarette as he waited for it to load and open.
The details were surprisingly sparse for a locked case. According to the records Morgan, then Alpha-heir of the Luna Pack, had approached a fae later identified by the Fae Court as Prince Senan of Blackstock and asked him if he wanted a friendly drink.
The Prince was apparently so insulted by the offer, he attacked Morgan with magic, causing Morgan to defend himself, resulting in wounds to the fae’s face and chest.
A couple of Shifter Council guards happened to be in the same bar, and slapped anti-magic cuffs on the fae, preventing any further damage.
What damage? Morgan’s never suffered any physical damage.
Finlay had shifted often enough with the man to know that for a fact.
After taking Morgan’s testimony, the guards took the fae into custody.
There was only one other notation on the file.
After consultation with the Fae Court and Alpha-heir Morgan it was determined the fae would be banished from the fae realm, and he was to wear his scar as penance for the rest of his existence.
Alpha-heir Morgan determined he was satisfied with the verdict, and no further investigation was required.
“No further investigation…? What the fuck? Where’s the information about why the prince felt insulted in the first place?” Finlay scrolled through the rest of the file.
It was clear from a few clicks that there had been no investigation. No one had taken a statement from Prince Senan, there had been no court case or defense offered by the Fae Court. There was no information about why Prince Senan had attacked Morgan because it appeared no one bothered to ask him.
Morgan claimed it was unprovoked, and his word was believed by the guards who took the prince into custody. Beta wolves, Finlay noticed, and yes that was relevant.
But not to the Shifter Council apparently.
There was nothing else. Case closed. No one had appeared to ask for Prince Senan’s side of the story at any point in the proceedings.
He had been sentenced and punished based on the word of an Alpha-heir wolf shifter, and the two shifter guards who just happened to have anti-magic cuffs on them at the time.
Finlay cleared his phone screen, and put his phone back into his pocket, lighting his third cigarette. He was going to stink of them, and Morgan was bound to complain, but in that moment Finlay did not give a solitary fuck.
Cruel was the word Morgan had used. Lies was the word Prince Senan had used, and on the surface of things, both parties could be believed equally. Shifters could scent a lie a mile away…
Unless the truths the guards were being told by Morgan were only half-truths, and Prince Senan wasn’t allowed to talk at all.
Finlay had seen that happen more than once and as he thought over the brief words he’d exchanged with the prince, he realized his mate didn’t even use Morgan’s name, only his designation.
My mate wasn’t given a chance to face his accuser. Morgan probably found himself another fuck that night, leaving Prince Senan to be locked up, tried, and punished without having a chance to speak up for himself.
Finlay was grinding his teeth, he was so angry, and having to wait for Morgan for what felt like freaking hours didn’t help.
The packet of cigarettes was half empty by the time Morgan finally left the convention center, waving at Lord Falcon and Gabrielle, the leader of the bear clan south of town, before heading to the car, swinging his keys in his hand as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Where the fuck did you slope off to?” Morgan said as he got closer. “You left me dealing with the meeting entirely on my own.”
“I told you before we left the house, you didn’t need me to hold your hand.” Finlay snatched the keys out of Morgan’s hand. “Get in the car. I’m driving.”
“Fuck. Something’s clearly crawled up your ass and died.” But Morgan went around to the passenger side of the car, and within a minute, they were on the road. Finlay already had a destination in mind, and he pushed the car as fast as it could go in his rush to get there.
Morgan hadn’t noticed. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes closed.
“Gods, I had such a good night. You were right. I really needed to get out of the pack house for a bit. I was on such a downer before the meal and feel so much better. It’s amazing, don’t you think?
You can mix with like-minded people for a while, and it’s a reminder that we’re actually independent adults instead of a figurehead everyone around me seems to want to complain to or about all the time.
“Getting dressed up, even simple things like voicing an opinion and actually having it respected. Gabrielle had a couple of really good ideas about limiting the complaints aspect among the pack. No one in his clan complains about anything – they just get on with their lives. Imagine how much easier life would be if the pack was like that.”
Finlay grunted. He’d traveled extensively and in his opinion a pack was only as good as the Alpha who looked after them. Not that Morgan was listening.
“Falcon was talking about the bonds between packs, clans, prides, and covens. He was right in what he said about us only really getting together once a year. I’m thinking we could come to a treaty deal with either the vampires or the bear clan.
Falcon and Gabrielle both have daughters old enough to form a bond, and if you and I took one each, we’d really increase the standing of the pack. ”
Snorting, Finlay shook his head as he indicated and turned off the main road, taking a winding road that went up the hills about a thirty-minute run from the pack grounds. “You can forget about including me in any shit like that,” he muttered, focusing on the road. “I’m not bonding with anyone.”
“Did you forget I am your Alpha?” Morgan chuckled. “If I order it, you have to obey.”
“You try forcing me to do something like that and I’ll cut my bonds with the Luna Pack permanently. Don’t think I won’t.”
“Gods, you’re so fucking moody this evening.” Morgan sat up and then frowned as he looked out at the darkness. “Where the fuck are you taking us? Did you take a wrong turn?”
“Nope. We’ll be there in a minute.”
“We’re nowhere near the pack house, or your house, either. Fin, what the hell’s going on?”
“We need to have a private chat.” Finlay swung into the small parking area he’d been looking for, hitting the brakes and turning off the engine the moment the car had stopped.
“So, we’re having one. No one will bother us out here.
” He flicked on the overhead light and glared at his brother who was looking confused for a moment before his face cleared.
“Oh, is this about what I said before we got to the event tonight?” Morgan clicked his fingers.
“Just forget I said anything. Honestly, I was feeling dragged down and got depressed and anxious about nothing at all. You were right. I just needed to get my head off my desk for five minutes and talking to people in similar positions to mine was a great way to clear my mind. There’s nothing to discuss because I’m fine now. ”
“We have plenty to talk about.” Leaning over, Finlay opened Morgan’s car door before straightening up again. “Get out of the car.”
“Why?” Morgan didn’t move.
“Because when I smash your head in I don’t want to get blood on the upholstery.”
“But it’s my car.” Morgan’s eyes widened. “Seriously, Fin cut this out. I’ve got shit to do at home.”
Opening his own door, Finlay climbed out and walked around the front of the car, illuminated by the headlights he’d left on. “I had an interesting chat with someone this evening, when I went looking for water.”
“Can’t have been that interesting. You didn’t come back to the meeting, and you’ve been in a right bloody mood since before I got in the car.” Morgan climbed out of his seat and wandered around to the front of the car, just as Finlay knew he would. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
Moving quickly, Finlay grabbed Morgan by the lapels of his jacket, pushing him over the hood of the low-slung car, using his body weight and his forearm across Morgan’s neck to keep his brother pinned. “What do you know about the fae known as Prince Senan of Blackstock?” he snarled.