Grace of a Wolf by Lenaleia

Chapter 72: Caine: Banquet (II)

CAINE

Fenris doesn’t acknowledge the greeting, instead fixing his gaze on something beyond the Alpha’s shoulder. I follow his line of sight to a display of ancient-looking weapons mounted on the wall inside—ceremonial, but deadly nonetheless.

There is blood. Fresh. Not even a day old.

My nostrils flare, but I can’t pick up any scent.

Halloway’s eyes drift over our party, dismissing Andrew and Thom almost immediately before pausing on Elizabeth with a distinct frown. Then he settles his attention on Jack-Eye, his lips thinning. Not quite hostile, but... something. "I see your beta has dressed for the occasion."

Jack-Eye inclines his head. "I believe in respecting local customs, Alpha Halloway."

"Indeed." The Fiddleback Alpha’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. "And the others are...?"

"My warlock," I say, nodding toward Thom, who shrinks further into himself. "And a wolf from Blue Mountain."

"Ah." A flash of recognition crosses Halloway’s face as he looks at Andrew. "From the rumors. You have our condolences."

Andrew says nothing, his posture rigid.

The alpha steps aside, allowing us entry into a vast open space with vaulted ceilings and tables draped in white linens. The room buzzes with at least fifty wolves, all in formal attire, watching us. A string quartet plays in the corner, though the music falters as the musicians notice our arrival. They’re all human.

"I hope you don’t mind," Halloway says, gesturing to the gathering, "but word of your visit spread quickly. Many were eager to pay their respects."

As if he didn’t spread the word himself. My lips quirk. I’m sure he’s assembled his entire inner circle, possibly his full pack hierarchy. It is interesting he could call in so many on such short notice.

They’re either incredibly loyal... or deeply afraid of their alpha.

pride in our efficiency," he adds,

a silver tray. I wave them away with a sharp gesture. Halloway takes

for a private

you understand—it would be an insult to deprive my pack of

I can only describe as practiced theater. "Tonight, we celebrate an unprecedented

this game of ceremonial adoration. The music swells slightly as conversation resumes, and Halloway guides

clenched with the anticipation of holding my temper at

I introduce some of our most

say nothing, which he

of my attention. Some bow deeply, others attempt conversation with rehearsed questions about Lycan territory. I answer in clipped sentences when required, my attention split between the sycophants and

surrounded by his own adulating fans, and I can feel his temptation

here, he says, sounding

by Andrew’s side. The latter looks bored, and his dark eyes meet mine with the faintest hint

Bastard.

just

Killing off a pesky brat

think

Fenris’s snappy demand, I turn my attention

attire, respectable conversation, an appropriate amount of deference. But Fenris is right.

woman in her fifties squeezes between two men to

a

have excellent facilities. Should your companion require anything beyond what

curls back. "My

"Of course, High Alpha.

own way. Now, his expression is neutral but his eyes are sharp. "High Alpha, perhaps you’d care to see the outdoor terrace? The