principal was not old, and should not appear old, for wolves lived a good three centuries, aging slowly and gracefully, as was Rhys. He looked a little pale, though his smile felt warm and Tryst’s apprehensions sluiced away.
“As much as I would love the chat, Principal Connor, I feel compelled to head outside and join the search. But if you’d allow me my curiosity, can I ask what it was I delivered to you last night?”
“Your father didn’t tell you?”
“The mission to bring it here was so urgent, he slapped the case in my hands and sent me off. I know only it was an elixir of some sort.”
“Alexis.”
The principal’s daughter stepped in and took the case from the table by the bed, gently setting it on her father’s lap.
The principal held up a vial of violet liquid in the beam of winter sunlight. “Wolfsbane.”
“Wolfsbane?” Tryst shoved backward and his boots scraped across the stone floor loudly. He ignored Lexi’s reprimanding glance. “Can I ask why you requested something from Hawkes Associates that could bring your death, Principal Connor?”
The elder wolf tilted the vial in observation. “I’ve had this stored with Hawkes Associates since the turn of the twentieth century. You just returned it to me. A gift from a warlock who warned me someday what could cause me harm may also bring me good. Wolfsbane can bring a werewolf death or, if administered in the proper dose, give life. Or so one can hope.”
He handed the vial to his daughter, who took it in her gloved hand and went to place it on the bedroom vanity.
“You have a need for either?” Tryst questioned.
“You’re very bold, boy. Always a detriment to those wolves not raised in a pack.”
“Forgive me. I’m trying. Pack life fascinates me, but there is much I have to learn.”
“It isn’t your fault you were denied the pack experience. I know your father well.” Edmonton tilted his head in that same assessing manner Lexi had when they’d first met. Tryst had been weighed and measured far too many times to even flinch. “You hold a dangerous secret, boy.”
Tryst averted his eyes from Lexi’s curiosity. Would she ever take off those sunglasses? He didn’t know if she knew the secret her father claimed to know, but he preferred she did not. He noted her fists tightened near her thighs. Of course her father would warn her against him.
Damn. So much for winning the werewolf princess. If his heritage were revealed to her, he was as good as mud beneath her kick-ass boots.
“Well, whatever it is you intend to use it for—” he gestured toward the vial of wolfsbane, diverting the conversation “—I hope you get the desired results.”
Tryst offered his hand to Edmonton, though from what his father had told him, he shouldn’t expect the gesture to be reciprocated. But the old man leaned forward, extending his hand. The handshake started Tryst’s heart beating a little faster. He felt as though he’d been bestowed a great honor.
“Thank you, Principal Connor. I’ll report to my father that you’ve received the package.”
“Do tell him thank you from me, will you?”
“I will. Uh, would it be okay with you if I remain at Wulfsiege to finish the rescue operation and help your pack dig out? I’ve nowhere else I need to be, and I do enjoy the hard work. Besides, right now, the only way out is on foot.”
The principal cast a discerning gaze over Trystan. He suspected that he didn’t quite measure up to the principal’s standards, the old man knowing what he did about Trystan’s lineage. It mattered little. And then it did, because he felt the princess’s regard so close behind him.
“You have my permission to stay until we’re dug out,” the principal offered.
Tryst nodded and backed from the room, swinging around as he entered the conference room. He had a long day ahead of him.
“I must see to finding a replacement for the scion quickly.” Edmonton tapped the vial of wolfsbane his daughter had returned to him. “Who knows how much longer I have.” He sat back and closed his eyes to the warm sun beaming across his face. The first dose had done something. He hoped. He did feel stronger, able to sit up without wanting to curl forward and close his eyes to the compelling yet often painful sleep. “Where is Sven?”
“Toddling after Lana, most likely.”
“He’s not helping with the rescue team?”
He heard his daughter’s smirk, and knew she had no respect for the alpha wolf who was engaged to his other daughter. He liked Sven. Called the Nordic Warrior for the reason he’d arrived at Wulfsiege a year ago after his pack had been annihilated by vampires, yet he had fought them boldly and still wore a scar along his torso. The young wolf was commanding, and quick to sniff out danger, though Edmonton did tend to turn an eye away from the man’s lack of work ethic. If he could delegate, he’d make a fine leader.
“Don’t tell me you would consider Sven for scion,” Alexis dared to say.
“Watch your tongue, girl.”
He didn’t like it when she was aggressive toward him. Toward others it worked well and kept them at the distance she preferred, but around him, he insisted she be more docile.
“And who would you recommend?” he asked.
“Liam.”
“His mother was an American.”
“And you only trust Europeans? Oh, Father.”
“Don’t oh, Father me, Alexis. You’ve developed a decidedly acid tongue of late. I cannot endure your rebellion when I am so weak. When’s the doctor due to arrive?”
“In a few hours. Do you want to wait for the next dose until after he arrives?”
“No. I’ll have you call in Natalie so we can administer another injection. I actually feel better after the first dose. I think it may be working.”
“I will,” she said, standing and tipping down her sunglasses to look over the rims at him. “You sure you’re feeling well this morning?”
“As well as a man who suffers a mysteriously debilitating ailment can feel.”
She snatched the vial and then gave him a hug. He didn’t squeeze back. Affection tended to spoil a well-trained child. Alana was proof of that. He couldn’t lose Lexi. Not yet.
“Lexi?”
“Yes, Father?”
“Be careful around Trystan Hawkes.”
“I am always careful around everyone, you know that. But Hawkes is not a threat to anyone.”
“He’s also not a full-blooded wolf.”
“What?”
His
