Chapter 319: Then Nicholas Started Sweating

GREYHALL CROSSING — LUNARIS PACK MEETING ROOM — 7:00 AM

"Who authorized the sleep rotation?"

"I did, Alpha."

Renwick’s eyes landed on Gavyn the way a buyer inspects a horse he hasn’t decided on yet. "And who authorized you to authorize anything?"

"Princess Guinevere, Alpha. And Tyler Draven, acting Beta at that time."

"And you ran eight hundred miles on her say-so."

"Yes, Alpha."

"Eight hundred miles. With five men who have never made that run. For a summit you had zero preparation for. Because a princess who has never commanded a pack told you to."

"Yes, Alpha."

The answer came back identical each time. Same cadence. Same volume. Same complete absence of the defensive bullshit that Renwick was fishing for with every word. Gavyn was giving him nothing to hook because there was nothing to hook. The answers were clean and the man delivering them had already made peace with every single decision.

"Who packed the supplies?"

"I did, Alpha. Standard eight-day field kit modified for a diplomatic engagement. Ceremonial provisions. Rations for seven."

Renwick’s eyebrow moved. "Seven."

"Six warriors plus the Princess. I checked her kit personally."

"What was in her kit?"

"Water, a first aid kit, a clean set of bandages, a dress, and her mother’s crown."

Renwick’s jaw moved once. The crown detail landed somewhere behind his eyes and stayed there.

"And the supplies that were already here?"

"We received zero confirmation that they had arrived, Alpha. So we planned accordingly. They had arrived earlier that day. Stored in the primary chamber, Alpha. Untouched. His armor is on the stand. Blade on the rack. Cape and crown were..." Gavyn paused. "The Princess took the cape for the council session. Stonehowl and Dark Fae are the culprits behind the mess from earlier."

Behind Gavyn, one of the rookies produced a sound that might have been a laugh being murdered in its crib. It died so fast forensics would have found nothing.

"She took Cassian’s cape."

"Yes, Alpha."

"To a council full of Alphas."

"On her, it looked like a cloak. She made it work."

Renwick’s mouth did something that, on any other man, would have been the beginning of a smile. On Renwick Lunaris it looked like indigestion. Then his eyes landed on Door Kid.

"You."

Door Kid’s soul briefly left his body, explored the afterlife, decided it was insufficient, and returned.

"Yes, Alpha."

Renwick studied him for three seconds.

"You look like shit."

"Thank you, Alpha."

The response was so instantaneous and so sincere that two of the other rookies turned their heads. Door Kid wished he could take it back but it was too late.

"Gavyn," Renwick said.

"Alpha."

"You’re not Gamma. You’re the guy I haven’t fired yet. There’s a difference and it’s measured in seconds."

Gavyn’s throat bobbed once.

"Yes, Alpha."

"I’m going to need a written brief on every interaction from the prior two council sessions. I want names, quotes, and the order they happened."

"Already written, Alpha. Page four of the report."

Renwick looked down at the report he had declined to pick up.

He picked it up.

His eyes moved across page four with the scanning speed of a man who read people for a living and documents for sport. Halfway down the page, his reading speed slowed. Three-quarters of the way down, it stopped entirely.

He was re-reading something.

Nobody breathed.

Then he folded the report and tucked it inside his jacket. He turned to the door. Stopped. Half-turned back to the room.

"Sleep. All of you. That’s an order."

He left.

The door closed behind him with a click that carried more finality than a gavel. Six wolves exhaled simultaneously, the collective sound of men who had been holding their breath through an earthquake and had just been told the building was still standing.

Door Kid sat down. His legs chose the moment and he went along with the decision.

"Did we just pass?" he whispered.

Gavyn looked at the empty chair where Renwick had refused to sit. Then at the spot on the table where the report had been. Then at the door.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "We passed."

Silence settled. The good kind. The kind that comes after something has been earned and everyone in the room knows it.

Door Kid picked up his cold whiskey from the night before. Drained it. Set it down.

"I need another one of these."

"Same," all five said in unison.

✦✦✦

GREYHALL CROSSING - SHADOWFELL ALPHA CHAMBERS

Nicholas had just entered his chambers when he started sweating. He was hot. It felt like a sauna.

Then Guinevere’s arousal slammed into him with the subtlety of a freight train.

"Holy..."

It was more than he had ever felt from her.

He groaned, catching himself with one hand against his wall and shoving down his pants. His other hand closed around himself.

Someone was touching what belonged to him. Then he felt the second hand, and the word someone died.

Both of them.

His wolf had opinions.

Mine.

The word did not help.

He stroked to their rhythm anyway. Then faster. As if beating them to the next grind would put him in the space they were using.

That should be me. That stretch. That grind. That wet. Not them.

When she came it was a seizure with no room for him in it. She clamped, shook, spilled—wet heat leaving her in pulses he felt in his groin like she was finishing on someone else’s cock and sending him the receipt. Mortification arrived a half-second later, hers, hot in his face. He almost followed her over.

He didn’t. He held the edge and hated them for the way she broke.

Then the second stretch tore through the aftershock.

Pain. Immediate. No file. She was still fluttering around the first when the second shoved in from behind and the venom turned the burn into heat so fast his vision went white.

Nicholas snarled at stone that could not hear him.

He should have been the one to open her like that. He should have been the one she pushed back onto. He should have been the heartbeat at her spine.

Both were inside of her. Two pressures on one body that answered to him.

"That’s mine," he said to the empty chamber, low, like she could be dragged back by sound.

He felt her wolf surface.

That was what finished him. He knew that sensation. Her fangs were in a shoulder that was not his. Claim-pleasure pouring out of her into another man, his own release hitting his fist like a poor, furious substitute for being inside her.

His chest was heaving. He could still feel her heat. He was still hard. Still furious. He needed to fuck her now. Immediately. The urge did not care that Greyhall would not let him leave.

"The next time you’re in reach, you’re under me. I don’t ask. I don’t share. I take back every inch they just used."