Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Power

Rose

Genevieve leaves me in my room with a dissatisfied grunt about speaking to me later tonight. I don’t mind. I find her company to be awful, and the room is comfortable. The windows face west toward the beautiful mountain ranges, a bit of snow capping the tops.

What a glorious sight. It makes me grateful that I am a daylighter who can take in these views in person rather than looking through a picture or from under a hood.

I hear footsteps, my ears perking up, wondering if Genevieve changed her mind and has decided to interrogate me here. But I smell someone else. Related, but definitely not Genevieve.

“May I come in?”

I look over my shoulder to see a tall woman with beautiful features peeking into the room from the hallway. I can tell she’s related to Genevieve because their scent is very similar, and she has the same eye and hair color, even if they look kinder on her.

She’s clearly the younger of the duo, and her nervous smile tells me she’s not nearly as cutthroat as her sister.

“Sure,” I reply with a pleasant nod. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Margaery,” she answers, extending her hand to shake mine, which I gladly do. “Genevieve is my sister.”

“I gathered,” I answer warmly as I sit at the desk on the small office chair.

“Are you happy with the room?” Margaery asks as she steps in. “This is one of the nicer hotels we have on pack grounds, so I’m glad this is where Gen picked for you to stay.”

I smirk. So she is aware of her sister’s bitchy tendencies.

“Do you know why I’m here?” I ask, ignoring the small talk.

“You’re Rose Carver of the Crimson Night Clan.”

“Clan Leader,” I correct.

“I know,” she replies, looking around for a place to sit. The hotel room isn’t large, just a swivel chair, a desk, a full-sized bed, and a nightstand.

“You can sit on the bed,” I tell her, nodding toward it.

She blushes, sitting at the edge as she looks away, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Are you scared of me?” I ask, unsure if I hope the answer is yes or no.

She shakes her head. “You seem like a fair leader, from what I’ve heard.”

“So why have you come to visit me?” I ask, leaning back as I steeple my hands.

“To warn you.”

I arch my brow.

“My sister,” she begins, biting her lip, looking at the floor like a guilty toddler. She doesn’t like bad-mouthing her sister, which means whatever she’s about to say is probably the truth. “She’s hard-headed and impulsive. Especially nowadays. I’m not sure why she’s singling out your clan instead of the others in the area, but she is. I’m sure you meant nothing by the elk hunt, and she shouldn’t be taking it as seriously as she is.”

“I’m surprised you’re not Luna,” I reply sincerely. “You seem far more capable.”

She shrugs, clearly not wanting to get into that, so I drop it, hoping not to put her on the defensive.

“I just came to tell you that you should be careful with Genevieve,” she sighs. “Little things can set her off, and I don’t want anything bad to happen between my pack and your clan. We should keep things civil. So even if you have to bite your tongue and swallow your pride, I’m asking you to do so.”

“I will not grovel at her feet.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Margaery answers quickly, this time looking me in the eyes. “All I’m asking is you check your ego at the door because I know she won’t, and it’s best for both of us if at least one of you is trying to diffuse the situation.”

“Understood,” I reply, licking my fangs. “I don’t want a war between our factions any more than you do. I’ll answer her questions, limit my commentary, and take the high road.”

Margaery lets out the faintest sigh in relief as her shoulders relax.

“Thank you,” she says as she stands, reaching her hand for me to shake again, this time with more vigor, her eyes bright and slightly pink. “It means a lot to us.”

“Us?”

Asher

“Is the rumor mill making stuff up, or did you really bring the Crimson Night Clan’s leader here for questioning?” I ask as Genevieve walks into her office, where I’ve been waiting for her for an hour.

“You heard correctly,” she answers, waving for me to get out of her seat, which I do, standing up and resting my hands on my hips as she raises her feet onto the desk, leaning back.

“Why do we need to question her? Do we have the Tribunal’s approval?”

“I don’t give a fuck about the Tribunal,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “And she hunted an elk into our territory. The blood got in the Arapahoe River.”

“So you brought her in here over a silly hunting accident?” I ask, leaning on the desk, one of my knuckles cracking. “Are you insane, Gen? This could strain things with them!”

She sits up quickly, pointing her finger in my face, causing me to step back quickly, my heart racing as her eyes burn bright orange. “Are you questioning me?”

I raise my hands in mock defense and answer, “I’m your mate. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going through your head with this move.”

She growls, her nose wrinkled as she turns around and pours herself a drink from the whiskey decanter on the shelves lining the back of her office.

She shouldn’t be drinking, especially if she’s about to interrogate a clan leader, but I won’t tell her that.

“Since when do you care about relations with the vampires?” She spits. “You should be focused on the duties you do have.”

“I’m only wondering.”

She turns around, takes a sip, and asks, “If you must know, since you won’t let it go, it’s because she’s a filthy bloodsucker and needs to learn her place now that I’m in authority.”

I open my mouth to argue, say something about how vampires haven’t been considered subordinates to werewolves in decades, but the way her fingers are clinching the glass as if she’s itching for me to give her a reason to throw it at me makes me think otherwise.

“What’re you going to ask her?” I reply instead, gulping down the lump in my throat.

She smiles that horrifyingly sticky-sweet smile and replies, “I don’t know. What’re you going to ask her?”

“Me?” I ask, raising my brows.

“Yeah,” she says, slamming her drink on the desk. “You’re so concerned about pack relations with them. Why don’t you handle the interrogation?”

“Because I’m not the one who brought her here.”

“I thought you wanted to be more ‘involved,’” she replies, using air quotes. “Be more of an Alpha! Or was that all lipservice to make yourself feel like your balls are bigger than we both know they really are?”

I feel a pang in my chest, looking away, my wolf cowering inside me, unable to push any fire into my belly. In the beginning, Cato would growl when she’d make comments like this. He’d bare his teeth, dig in his claws.

Now?

I’m not sure when the last time I heard anything other than whimpers from him was.

“Gen, you don’t have to-”

“Have to what?” She asks, throwing up her hands. “I’m finally giving you an important task, which is what you’ve been on your knees begging me for this whole time, and you’re not grateful?”

“Of course I’m grateful!” I correct, nodding my head intently as I take her into my arms, not even a slight tingling feeling in my body when I do. “I am glad you’re giving me this chance to prove myself.”

I rub my thumbs across her biceps as she crosses her arms over her chest, looking up at me with a look mixed with disgust and indifference. I’m not sure which is worse.

“A real Alpha wouldn’t have questioned why I’m interrogating a bloodsucker for daring to come within a mile of our territory,” she grunts. “You’re lucky I’m forgiving.”

“I know, I know,” I affirm, lifting my hand to cup her face, hoping some affection will make her back down. “I’m grateful. Really, I am.”

She sighs, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lip.

“Besides, I’m not being completely selfless. It might be a turn-on to hear about how you put that night stalker in her place,” she says, running her hands up my chest, my heart stopping as she bites her lip. “So I suggest you get to it, Asher.”