Chapter 137: Grandma’s Guide To Getting Laid

THUNDERFANG KEEP - THE HIGH LUNA’S WING

WHAT’S ONE MORE

Landon was three corridors from the High Luna’s parlor when Captain Harlan fell into step beside him.

"Alpha. We have a problem."

Landon didn’t slow down. "Add it to the list."

"This one goes to the top. A body was found in the guest suite Nova had been assigned to. Carmen Vasquez, the omega. Forensics found her."

Landon stopped mid-step. "You’re fucking joking."

"I’m not. The body had been there for almost a day. No murder weapon found."

"Seal the suite. Full lockdown. No one in, no one out, no one talks about it. Pull the corridor surveillance from the last day."

"Already in motion, Alpha."

???

HIGH LUNA’S PARLOR - TEN MINUTES LATER

"You’re dissolving," the High Luna repeated, the word leaving her mouth like she had bitten into something expired.

"Yes, Gran."

"After less than a week."

"Correct."

"It’s only been a few days, Landon. You haven’t even given her a chance. That girl is a princess. A Starborne princess. Her bloodline is—"

"I don’t care about her bloodline."

"Well, somebody should, because yours is on the line." She took a drink. "At least sleep with both of them before you make your decision."

Landon’s face performed a factory reset. Every feature went blank at the same time, the coordinated shutdown of a system that had received input it was not built to process.

"Gran."

"What? I’m being practical. A sex-tie breaker. The slave is a virgin. The princess probably is better at it. I’m being realistic. You can’t test-drive a hover pod from the passenger seat, Landon. You need to get behind the wheel. Both wheels. Then decide which one handles better."

"She is Derek’s mate."

"Celeste said you were moaning her name, dear."

"Celeste broke into my chambers and tried to get me to mark her in my sleep."

"Smart girl."

"No. Not smart."

"A matebond would help. Sometimes love follows the mark."

"I am not marking her."

The High Luna waved her hand like she was shooing a fly. "My point is, an informed decision requires data. You have no data. You are operating on what, intuition? Feelings? Celeste says you’re infatuated and I have to agree."

"Gran, I am begging you to stop talking to Celeste."

"Fine. We can table this, Landon. Just know that it is acceptable to do your due diligence. The princess would pleasure you if you let her."

Landon dragged a hand down his face while the High Luna took a sip of her wine, unbothered.

"That slave has done something to your mind. Both of you. You and Derek. Whatever she did at that dinner, the gold glowing, the torches, her water floating above the table, that was not normal, Landon. That was dark. I watched your brother change color because she touched his hand. His hand. Nobody does that. You don’t turn gold from holding hands. That’s not how any of this works."

"Derek’s situation has nothing to do with Nova."

"Derek is in a coma, dear. Because of the slave. The last person who touched him before he collapsed was her. She turned him gold. He yelled at his Gran and abandoned his family at the table. Forgive your grandmother for connecting two dots that are practically kissing."

Landon exhaled through his nose. "He didn’t yell at you, Gran. I was at the table. He apologized for leaving. And I didn’t come here to argue about Nova."

"Good. Then we agree. Sell her back to Starborne. Or Emberclaw. The Emberclaw Alpha offered a fortune. Take the money and run. Give the princess a real chance. Everybody wins."

"Nobody wins in that scenario, Gran. But on that note, Celeste mentioned you were planning on selling Nova or returning her to Starborne. Tell me that is not true."

The High Luna’s glass paused halfway to her mouth. The pause was brief. The glass completed its journey.

"Planning is a strong word. Exploring options."

"I am forbidding it. But just in case you decide to do it anyway, Nova already has the Thunderfang last name. She is registered as my wife now."

Gran’s wine glass shattered on the stone floor.

"You did WHAT?"

"She’s Thunderfang, Gran. That is done."

"You gave a SLAVE the Thunderfang name. Without consulting me. Without consulting the council. Without consulting anyone who has been running this pack since before you learned to shift."

"I consulted myself. I’m the Alpha."

"You are a boy who is making decisions with his emotions because a girl with shiny hair walked into his keep and set everything on fire. Literally, Landon. She literally set the building on fire."

"She didn’t start that fire."

"Oh, of course she didn’t. Things just spontaneously combust around her. Heads fall from the sky. Priestesses lose their clothing. Torches change color when she sneezes. My favorite grandson enters into a coma. All coincidence."

"Gran—"

"I have run this pack for longer than you have been breathing, Landon. I kept it together when your parents died. I kept it together when Derek decided that every rule was a suggestion. I kept it together during your little emo-gothic phase right now where silence is your personality. But I will not keep it together while you hand our name to a girl who arrived in silver cuffs and has been in this keep for less time than the leftover roast in my cold storage."

She walked over to her credenza and poured herself a new glass of wine.

"She is dangerous, Landon. I don’t know what she is. But I know what she isn’t. She isn’t one of us. She isn’t safe. And she is not going to be the reason this pack falls apart because two of my grandsons lost their senses over a pretty face and a light show."

"Are you done?"

"I haven’t even started. The Emberclaw pack has fire safety built into their Keep. The Alpha’s wolf catches fire when he shifts. That’s their bloodline. Hand her over to them and they can dispose of her as they see fit."

"No. I’m dissolving the arrangement with Celeste. Nova stays. She is being coronated as a royal alongside the Beta Luna and Gamma Luna. Those are my orders."

The High Luna’s left eye twitched. Just once. A genetic gift she had passed to her grandson and neither of them would ever acknowledge it.

"You are making a catastrophic mistake."

"I’ve made worse."

"Name one."

"Letting you brief my guards about sexual games."