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“I know. Glib. Gotcha.”

“Do you think his resentment is enough to motivate him to move on my territory?”

“I don’t know.”

My uncle was a relatively young king, as was Lucas. Both had inherited the heavy burden of the crown from their fathers before them, and all I saw were similarities. Maybe Lucas should be asking himself if he’d be willing to move on another king’s territory if the opportunity presented itself, rather than trying to view me as the weak link in his chain.

“Morgan thinks we should set up a meeting between you and Callum.”

“Oh she does, does she?”

Morgan Scott, Lucas’s new enforcer, had risen in the pack ranks after Desmond became the Queen’s Guard and moved in with me. Lucas needed someone to pick up the slack of Desmond’s former responsibilities, and Morgan was the next strongest wolf in his pack. Now she ranked just below Desmond and me, and she loved to remind me it was only a short climb to the top if I should fall out of favor.

Sometimes I think she was willing to give a little extra push.

It wasn’t that Morgan hated me. I knew enough people who genuinely loathed me to be able to tell the difference. She was motivated, she lusted for power, and she saw me as an outside force blocking her path. I respected her drive, but I wasn’t about to give up Lucas so she could be queen instead.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Lucas said.

“And if Callum really does harbor a grudge, aren’t we giving him a golden opportunity to get rid of me?”

The crowd erupted into an ear-splitting cheer as the Rangers scored a goal.

“If he kills you at an official summit, it’s a capital offense. All the kingdoms would come down on him in force.”

“But I’d still be dead.”

“You’re pretty hard to kill,” he reminded me.

I sighed. “Where is the territory?”

“Nebraska.”

“Oh God. Let him have it.”

Lucas leaned back and stared at the ceiling, probably asking himself for the millionth time how he got stuck with me. “We need to send someone out there to try and stabilize the region. If that fails, we have to confirm who the Alpha is in cahoots with.” He ignored me when I snickered at the word cahoots, point one for Lucas. “Only if it turns out a McQueen agent is responsible for the unrest will I consider calling a summit. But, Secret, I need us to be a united front on this.”

“I’ve been nothing but supportive of the pack,” I said defensively.

“But you aren’t really a part of the pack.”

This had been a point of contention between us for months. I’d been actively involved in pack politics and stood by his side at all pack meetings. I knew every single member of the Manhattan region pack and could name every Alpha in Lucas’s territory. So I didn’t run with them under the full moon? Was that really the be-all end-all?

“I don’t know what more you want from me.”

He scrubbed his hands over his face, then cupped my knee under his palm. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

Since being naturally argumentative was one of my uglier character traits, a wash of bile-sharpened words stung the back of my throat, but I managed to swallow them down. Just this once I would let him get away with saying something stupid and hurtful. He’d saved me from myself earlier, and I’d let him have this one.

The Rangers trampled the Devils seven-to-two, and Lucas dropped me off at my apartment with a promise to make up for our disastrous date by cooking me dinner the next night. It would have to be a hell of a meal, considering I didn’t eat human food for the most part, and he’d managed to make me feel about as big as a wood tick.

Maybe he’d let me bite him. That might help me feel better.

Where the hell did that thought come from? I don’t want to bite my boyfriend.

But I did. I couldn’t explain it, but the second Lucas was out of sight I was fantasizing about sinking my fangs into the trembling pulse of his throat and ripping the hot artery open.

I shuddered, and it was only half from repulsion.


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal