Page 3

“Perhaps.” She squeezes my hand once and lets go, moving on to greet Afsaneh and the others.

I greet each member of the Council in turn, glad that Naomi is the last of them.

She, at least, I know a little better, and she was Moreau’s protégé, which means I suspect she knows more than most. He has not been seen in London since Vasile and Deacon’s mating, but I do not doubt he keeps abreast of all that is happening here.

“Still going with crai?” Naomi asks. Her dark hair is in braids, and she sweeps them over her shoulder as she glances around the room.

“Vasile was the first of us,” I say. “I will keep the title he provided.”

“Sentimental of you.”

“How are you finding the Council?”

“Around as riveting as you’re finding your new role, I think.” I look at her in surprise, and she grins. “You’ll do a great job, of course. Besides, we’ve just had all that excitement. I’m sure you’ve got a hundred years of calm waters ahead.”

Oh, I doubt that. Naomi’s grin widens as though she does, too, and then she moves on to speak with Elle, who she seems to know better than anyone else here.

The wolves arrive as the hunters drift into the crowd. Vasile meets Deacon by the door, and Deacon turns his attention to his mate for long enough that I know he knows they’re both safe here.

Of course they are. I might not particularly care for the wolves, and I might be saddened that Vasile has left us, but I would never allow them to be harmed.

Deacon approaches, but when I hold out my hand for him to shake, he rolls his eyes and pulls me into a tight hug. I make a surprised sound, and he laughs softly in my ear. “You know you’ll never be rid of him.”

I shake my head as he steps back. He’s scented me, the arsehole, whether he meant to or not. Vasile smiles beside him, acting as though he’s oblivious to anything that’s going on. “I’m sure you can keep him busy.”

Deacon’s gaze instantly heats, eyes sliding over to his mate again. “I have some ideas.”

“So do I, lupul meu,” Vasile murmurs. “But they all require us to remain at this party for at least two hours more.”

Deacon pulls a face—I’m not the only one planning on leaving early—but as my eyes skip over the alphas, their mates, and their seconds behind him, I linger on a stranger.

“Who’s that?”

Deacon doesn’t even glance back. Vasile looks… guilty.

“You didn’t tell him,” Deacon says. A note of glee enters his voice.

“We had enough to discuss today.”

“Moreau might not be here, but the Hunt is still sticking their noses in where they don’t belong,” Deacon says. He waves his hand and the man approaches. He’s human, as far as I can tell, though he holds himself like a hunter.

And if he is in the Wild Hunt… He’s fae something . Fae-adjacent.

He’s Deacon’s height and build, but Deacon has never possessed the ability to be unremarkable that I think this man might. “Meet Asher,” Deacon says, “my new bodyguard, apparently.”

“ Our new bodyguard,” Vasile says. He sounds amused.

Asher says nothing. He drops his gaze when I look at him, but not in submission. His hands are clasped before him, dark tattoos staining his fingers. Perhaps he is not pleased about—

“Wait,” I say, looking at Vasile again. “Why would I—Where are Rook and Saide?”

Rook and Saide were Vasile’s guards, back before we knew for sure that Tamesis—Vasile’s sire—was out to win him back and destroy all the supernatural creatures in London. Both vampires. Both fae.

I haven’t seen them since the night Tamesis attacked the clan and took Elle, Adam, and me as his prisoners.

“No one has seen them since they left the clan,” Vasile says. “I suspect you’ll have someone else.”

“No, I—” I don’t want anyone watching over me. I don’t want anyone watching me, full stop. “I don’t want that.”

Deacon shakes his head, and Asher makes a sound I cannot interpret. I’m suddenly very aware that we’re holding things up, that the party cannot truly begin until Deacon has moved on and I’m greeting the other alphas.

My face heats. “We’ll discuss this later.”

“Nothing to discuss,” Deacon says in a tone that’s only a little smug. It sours when he glances at Asher. “Turns out they’re really difficult to get rid of.”

Some expression—something like triumph—crosses Asher’s face. Vasile looks faintly amused, indulgent.

I let them move on and greet the rest of the wolves. Mostly, they’re friendly, or curious, though when Kieran, the wolves’ newest alpha, steps up before me, his grin is a little crooked.

“Crai,” he says, sticking out a hand.

“Alpha.” I shake it.

“I’ve not been in this room for a while.”

“Do you like the view more from this height?”

Kieran’s eyes flare wide. Behind him, his second, Sam, stifles a bark of a laugh.

“Njáll,” Lucien mutters, but he’s hiding his own smile.

It wasn’t so long ago he was one of our chieftains, but the moment the clan brought Kieran in for staking unauthorised turns, a spark lit between the two of them that eventually led to Lucien leaving us and helping his mate to found their new pack.

I know Elle misses him; the two are close friends.

Sometimes I miss him, too.

“Apologies.”

“Don’t apologise,” Sam says, elbowing Kieran in the side. He shakes my hand, too, even though none of the seconds have so far. “You’re gonna need some of that attitude to deal with him.”

“Fucking rude,” Kieran mutters, but he’s smiling, too.

“C’mon,” Sam says. He tugs on Kieran’s arm. “Elle’s over there.”

Kieran’s hand brushes Lucien’s before he moves away. Lucien glances around the room. Kieran being the newest alpha means that I’ve greeted all the wolves now, and the party is getting underway.

“How are you finding things?”

“I thought it might be like being a chieftain,” I say, and my throat tightens. “It isn’t.”

“It is not,” Lucien agrees. I look at him again. He is not in the same position as me, but he has moved into one of more responsibility in its own way, I think. “You will make it your own. In time.”

I fight the urge to shake my head. It’s not that I don’t believe him.

It is simply difficult to imagine. We had no clan before Vasile, Deacon, and Moreau brought us together.

Vasile has been our only crai; even the wolves had another alpha before they moved onto Deacon, and the hunters held elections every couple of decades.

Change is… difficult for vampires. We are not creatures of it, not in the way we once were.

Lucien smiles faintly. “Did you ever imagine you would be here?”

I look out across the room. People are talking, mingling, and not remaining in their segregated groups as part of me has secretly worried about all week. “No,” I whisper.

When I look back at Lucien, he is not looking at me. His gaze is, as ever, drawn to his mate. Kieran smiles at something Sam says, attention split between him and Elle, though I have no doubt he knows exactly what Lucien is doing.

“Did you?” I ask Lucien.

He doesn’t ask me to clarify the question. “Of course not,” he says. “And we have gone through much to get here… But I am glad we made it. All of us.”

He reaches out and grasps my forearm, squeezing gently. We were not… not friends, before, and of an equal footing in the clan, but something tells me we may have an even better understanding of each other now.

I open my mouth to offer to get Lucien something to drink, but before I can speak, the doors swing open again.

The man who enters commands the attention of the room, though I am certain he does not mean to. In appearance, he is young, fresh-faced, with a mop of dark copper curls that bounce as he strides purposefully towards me.

His boots strike the marble beneath his feet with far more force than I would expect for someone of his stature—he is tall but willowy, skin paler than perhaps any other vampire I have seen before.

Because he is that. A vampire.

A vampire, and…

Oh, no.

I glance at Asher, once, as this stranger stops before me. No one has moved to intercept him—perhaps as stunned into silence as I am—but maybe, too, because Asher’s lips have thinned, Vasile looks amused, and Deacon is rolling his eyes.

“You’re the crai?” the man asks. His tone is dismissive, his accent a pleasant burr.

“I am.”

“Fantastic,” he replies, and I am certain he could not sound less enthusiastic if he tried. “I’m Maurice. I suppose I’ll be your new bodyguard.”