assigned territory, and there were strict rules for governance, travel and trade that had to be observed. Irondell was the engine for it all, home to a blending of all breeds, including humans, and the seat for the Reform Council.
While they had other options like going through the River, Glen and Alpine territories, as well as the Plains, each alternative presented its own issues. They were already low on some of the medical supplies, and they needed to restock their food before the first snows of winter.
Rafe put his hands on his hips as he strolled toward her. His movements were casual, but his posture was intimidating. The ring on his finger glinted in the torchlight from the wall sconces. It bore the Woodland crest, and was only worn by the Woodland Alpha Prime. The sight of that ring would normally make a pack member bow their head in submission.
She lifted her chin. She was a former Scion. She wouldn’t allow herself to be intimidated. As he stepped closer, she recognized the ire in his green eyes, such a bright contrast against the fall of dark, scruffy hair, the tanned skin and dark shadow of a beard, and she locked her knees into place. Nope. Not intimidated. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his size as imposing as the mountain they lived within, but she knew him well enough to see past the darkly handsome looks to the even darker personality within. They’d lived as pack mates all her life, yet she could honestly say she didn’t know this lycan. He’d been normal, once. Hell, they’d been friends. Then over the course of one winter he’d visited his father in another pack and returned a born-again douche. She barely recognized this angry, bitter stranger. The man who’d taken over her father’s position. Her grip tightened on the straps of her backpack.
“Don’t push it,” he said, his voice low in warning.
“Rafe—we’ve just received a request,” a voice called out, and Trinity turned, as did Rafe. Channing, the head of tech, jogged into the hall.
Rafe frowned, visibly annoyed by the interruption. “For what? From whom?”
Channing came to a stop in front of his alpha, his expression earnest. “Alpine Pack request parley.”
Trinity’s eyes widened, and she could sense the growing trepidation from her pack mates behind her, yet she felt a relief at the distraction, no longer under the steely regard of her alpha prime.
“Oh, do they just?” Rafe murmured.
“‘Matthias, Alpine Guardian Prime, formally requests parley with Rafe, Alpha Prime of Woodland Pack,’” Channing quoted, then dropped his gaze.
Dion swore softly, and the guardians who were in the hall rose to their feet. Trinity stepped closer, and her movement drew Rafe’s attention.
“This doesn’t concern you, either.” His tone was implacable.
Parley from Alpine didn’t concern her? Didn’t concern pack? Woodland had killed the Alpine Alpha Prime. Alpine were coordinating blockages to supplies and services, and now wanted to discuss a resolution under truce. This concerned all of Woodland Pack. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but Rafe put a finger to his lips.
“Remember, you’re no longer part of the Family Prime.” He cocked his head to the side, and flashed his teeth in a smile. Trinity eyed his incisors. Those darn teeth. Even now, he lengthened them for effect, for intimidation. This whole debacle had started when he’d visited the Armstrong shadow breed medical clinic in Irondell for a fang enhancement. Now he didn’t need to shift in order to use his fangs. Those new fangs also came with an aggressive attitude and a thirst for power. Arthur Armstrong had a lot to answer for. “Unless you’d like to discuss your position?”
He leaned against the table and folded his arms, waiting for her response. Jax paled, and looked about frantically for an escape route.
She maintained eye contact as she stepped closer and leaned down to reach under the table. “No, I’m good, thanks,” she said, and felt a small hand slide into her own.
She tugged, and the little boy crawled out, his eyes wide as he glanced up at his fearsome alpha. She pulled him behind her as she started to back away from Rafe. He watched her, his gaze shifting between her and the boy.
“Are you sure?” he asked silkily. “You seem to have an opinion on everything.” She shook her head. “Then stay out of my business,” he said, his voice louder as he straightened from his position. He glanced around the crowd in the hall. “I’m calling a guardian meeting. Everyone else, clear the hall.” He glanced back at Trinity. “I’ll deal with you later.”
Trinity swallowed as everyone except the Woodland guardians cleared the hall, the low hush of conversation gradually quieting. She nudged Jax in the direction of one of the corridors. She didn’t want to be “dealt with” later, particularly not by Rafe. She should have just kept her mouth shut and disappeared into the background.
“Go back to your den. Help out your mother. I’ll see you tomorrow for class.”
Jax nodded, all too pleased to escape the tension of the great hall.
Trinity hurried from the cavern. She didn’t look back, but she could feel the heavy weight of Rafe’s stare as she left. Next time, she really would keep her mouth shut.
She knew what he was asking. Hell, pretty much everyone within earshot knew what he was asking, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The price was too high.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea.”
Matthias spared his friend a brief glance. Zane’s brown gaze scanned the forest terrain around them. Late-afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, casting light and shadow in dappled patterns across the forest floor.
“Relax, Zane, we’ll be fine,” Matthias said, his arms at his sides as he gazed down the trail.
“I don’t trust Rafe Woodland as far as I can throw him,” the guardian muttered, folding his arms.
Matthias’s lips twitched. “Neither do I.” He’d been surprised that Woodland had agreed to parley. Surprised and suspicious.
“We should be doing this in Nightwing. Neutral territory.”
Matthias glanced over his shoulder, looking for any giveaway movement in the underbrush. Nightwing was the home territory for a colony of vampires, spearheaded by the Marchetta family. Well, Vivianne Marchetta. There was a brother, Lucien, but he hadn’t been in the area for years as he headed up the family’s interests on the west coast. “Our deal with Marchetta is for thoroughfare only. If we held this meeting in Nightwing, we’d have a whole bunch of vampires raining down on us.”
“As opposed to a rival pack,” Zane said drily.
Matthias grinned. “You sound scared, Zane.” His grin broadened when his sergeant shot him a dark look. “Besides, I don’t trust Marchetta that much, either.” It had been annoying enough having to enter into talks with Nightwing’s vampire prime, but he didn’t want to further indebt the Alpine pack to the vampires. They could use the Nightwing territory as a shortcut between Alpine and Woodland, but they were to use it as a thoroughfare, not a stopover. He’d agreed readily enough. He didn’t know any wolf who wanted to hang around with a bunch of bats. Besides, their argument was with the Woodland Alpha Prime, not the vamps. If they gave him and his lycans a wide berth,
