Eli

“You want to what?”

I worked my jaw at that, not appreciating being questioned by someone I didn’t even fucking consider a councilor anymore.

Before, taking their shit had been hard.

Now that I had a different plot ahead in mind, it was even more difficult to accept.

I ran a hand over my chin, watching as the council—without Conrad and his wife as leaders—gathered in front of me, umbrage lining their features as they bristled with dissension and fury at my tactics.

“It isn’t a matter of wanting. It is a matter of honor. Of duty. For a child that young to be tossed out onto the streets is an abomination.”

“That’s because Kingsley Rainford was an abomination,” Laura Thierry muttered.

“Yes, but his son isn’t. He’s also close to shifting, and if he does that and is left to lead his own life without any input from anyone else? Who knows where that might lead us.”

“It isn’t our problem,” Ronan Grayford snapped, making me want to bitch slap the fucker for being so damn dense.

“It is. He came to our territory. He was stealing food from one of our stores to fill his belly. At some point, it was going to become our problem.” I shook my head. “This is why I have issues with you all. You never see the woods for the trees. You never see past the small circle in which you inhabit—”

“We all know your thoughts on our leadership,” Grayford snapped. “Poor Conrad and Larissa—”

“Poor Conrad, my ass,” Ethan snarled, his anger clear to behold. “I saw what happened with my own eyes. He cornered an innocent. A woman a lot older than him. He was duplicitous and disrespectful of pack law. We don’t challenge each other like wild, feral beasts in the middle of a run. We uphold pack law, and as council leader, that was literally all he had to do, and he failed.”

Ethan wasn’t wrong, but then, he’d been there.

I had taken no pleasure in ending Conrad’s miserable life, mostly because I pitied his wife. As mates, when he wandered over to the next realm and into the Mother’s arms, she would too.

I never killed without being fully aware of the repercussions, but Conrad?

He was a fool.

He’d refused to relent, he’d carried on attacking me, so when he snapped at me, my beast had overtaken my control and had demanded submission.

It was too late for Conrad to back away by that point.

His future was altered by his stupidity, and as a result, two people were no longer a part of my pack.

Larissa was, of course—she was still hanging on, but it wouldn’t be for long.

We all knew that. Just like we knew that my mother’s hanging on for two years had been either a miracle or by design.

I rocked back in my seat, uncaring that there was a wall of disapproval staring at me.

Instead, I murmured, “Your time as councilors is coming to an end. I understand you know this. I understand, even more, that you will want to cling onto the seats of power which you’ll hold on to for as long as you can, but don’t misunderstand me.

“I’ll let you stay on until I figure out the best possible plan of action for the pack as a whole. Until then, you hold your positions, and that’s that.

“You do not question me, especially when it comes down to the life of a small boy whose future is at stake. Whose very existence, whose very power puts the pack in danger.

“If he shifts on our territory, or hell, on any other, and a human sees him…” I shook my head at them. “If you can’t see the devastating impact of that, then I fear for your brains.”

When, twenty minutes later, still huffing, they wandered out the way they’d come in, I growled under my breath at their myopic stance.

“The rest of the pack will agree with you,” Ethan said neutrally.

I shot him an irritated glare. “They have no choice in the matter.”

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

The small voice had me twisting in my seat, and when I saw the kid Sabina had brought into the fold, I sighed.

He was too fucking small for his age, too fucking small for the power in him, and just seeing that made my wolf howl. It made me think of the twins when they were younger, ostracized by those who should embrace them, but more than that, the wolf could recognize an equal power, and it could recognize that strength and appreciate it—especially when it was in a child so young who was in desperate need of molding.

I beckoned the child forward with my hand and told him, “You weren’t supposed to be listening in on that conversation.”

“They were loud. I didn’t need to do much to listen.” His answer made my lips twitch, and when I shot Ethan a look, I saw he was smirking too.

My brother sat on a sofa, reclining like we hadn’t just had the villagers armed with pitchforks and shovels at our door.

But then, I guessed we hadn’t.

The council meant nothing to me anymore. It was time I figured out how to disband them properly for the good of the pack as a whole.

But for now, Daniel needed me.

And his wolf? Fuck, it needed mine badly.

As he approached with a caution to his step that told me he was wary around me because of my strength, but also attracted to my power because like called to like, I didn’t rush him.

I just let him make his way forward.

When he was near enough, I snatched him up in a surge of energy, made him laugh as I hung him over my shoulder, and then asked, “You want to sit down?”

His giggles made my heart feel overfull. “No! I like this.”

That he hadn’t been played with was another given, so I just wandered over to the patio doors and said, “See this land, Daniel?”

“Nope,” he replied with another giggle. “I see your legs.”

I had to grin as I shuffled around so he could see better. “How about now?”

“I do.”

“The land is all we have. You should remember that.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Maybe you don’t now, maybe you will when you’re older, but don’t forget I said it, hmm?”

“I won’t, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me ‘sir,’” I corrected, like I’d corrected him every night for the past three nights of his stay here.

“E-Eli.”

Had to figure the kid would loosen up some when he was hanging upside down over my shoulder.

I let him down though, and said, “You caused no trouble. I’m pleased to have you here. If people huff and puff over it, well, it’s what they do, isn’t it?”

His eyes were troubled. “I wasn’t welcome at home anymore.”

I nodded. “Not because of you. Just because of your father.” His tension told me what he felt about him. “But it wasn’t personal.” I needed to ram that home, because otherwise, he’d grow up filled with a bitterness that saw him only wanting revenge on those who’d tossed him out. That was why it was important for him to know that only the land mattered. Not power struggles and strife. The land counted more than anything, because it housed us all, nourished us all, and gave us leave to gather together, to form a community.

Community being the key word.