Tangled

Unshift 202

Unshift 202

202 Lucas: Council (1)

Alphas arguing with alphas is nothing but a waste of time.

The dregs of cold coffee stick in my throat as I set my mug down with a thud. Fuck. I'm exhausted. My eyelids feel like sandpaper against my eyes, and I rub at them with the futile hope of easing the discomfort.

Forty-eight hours.

Two damn days since I've seen the inside of my eyelids for more

then a blink

I haven't had a chance to even speak a single word with Ava. Not

even a text

It's impossible to keep her a secret forever, but without knowing how far I can trust these other alphas-bringing her into this mess

is a risk I refuse to take.

The last thing I need is for the Council to push back and demand that Ana be returned to Alpha Blackwood in order to prevent any more vampire attacks.

Jericho's worries have set root in my belly, growing an entire forest of doubt and concern. He's right. Ara's not enough of a reason to Breach the peace we've upheld for so long Far longer than any of our lifetimes

There's something else there. Something I was too blind to see. And we need to act. *

Now. Before any other tragedies come to be.

The stink of unrest taints the air, setting my teeth on edge.

I glance across the conference table, meeting Clayton's steely gaze. He's been the ally in my corner, standing steadfast beside me in my

concerns.

Alpha Xavier, our strongest ally in the Council, isn't convinced that there's a concern to the entire territory. Oh, he believes that there's danger-at my front

simple as reinforcing our boundaries in Blackwood and Westwood. As sending a few

inside of me, inside my wolf, screams that

wrong.

chance to fight back. We've already witnessed how

the beginning. A first strike in a war that can bring us all to our

prideful, territorial cats, who'd rather bury their heads in the sand than acknowledge the

throat, his rumbling baritone cutting through the murmured side

this meeting back on

34:52

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aga, and we'll

chair groani across the

to me.

needs to

mment

is no isolated incident. It's calculated. Deliberate. A test of our defenses, of our ability to react. It's the first steps of war. We are all at risk. Westwood is nothing more than the first step to whatever

end of the table-neutral party in Alpha Ezekial Talon of Whispering

bastard Blackwood, with his territory between

fully gray in his hair with wrinkles and scars all across his face. Even so, it's a testament to

Of course, then we had only asked him to turn a blind eye. Here, we're

moral. Waiting to hear both sides of the story, refusing to take sides

is

benefits his pack the most, instead of acting in

Westwood," he diawls. "A few Unregistereds step out of line and suddenly it's Armageddon? We've

202 Lucas: Council (0)

in their little sanctuaries for so long, I'm

a moment."

back the growl building in my

to appear and disappear at will. They're striking without warning, and we have no way of

that we've been making for two goddamn days, falling on deaf