Page 7 of When Two Worlds Collide

“That’s not what I meant,” I begin, realizing my error too late.

“It’s exactly what you meant.” Zane rises to his fullheight, his presence dominating the tent. “You civilized shifters with your maps and documents and carefully measured words—underneath it all, you see us as lesser beings. Too primitive to understand your enlightened ways.”

“No one said that,” I counter, standing my ground. “I’m trying to find a solution that respects both our traditions.”

“Respects?” Marcus laughs. “You offer us the scraps of our own territory and call it respect. You draw lines on paper and expect us to obey them like trained dogs.”

The settlement elders shift uncomfortably, some beginning to edge toward the tent exit. I can’t blame them; the tension in the air has become almost physically painful.

“Perhaps we should continue this discussion tomorrow,” Elder Josiah suggests. “When tempers have cooled.”

“There’s nothing to continue,” Zane states flatly. “The Ambassador has made Haven’s Heart’s position clear. They see us as savages to be managed, not equals to be respected.”

I feel the negotiation slipping away. Months of potential conflict flash before my eyes—raids on settlements, retaliatory strikes, escalating violence as other wild clans emerge. All because I let Marcus provoke me into one careless comment.

“Alpha Blackthorn,” I say, forcing steadiness into my voice. “You judge all civilized shifters by one misspoken phrase, yet expect us to look beyond centuries of wild clan aggression. If you truly believe in your ancestral claim to this land, prove it through negotiation, not intimidation.”

“We don’t need to prove anything to pampered pets who’ve forgotten how to use their claws,” Marcus snaps.

That does it. I feel my suppressed temper finally ignite, sending fire-like sensations along my nerves.

“Pampered pets?” I repeat, my voice dropping dangerously low. “Is that what you think we are?”

Zane watches me closely, something new flickering across his face—anticipation, perhaps. “Marcus speaks what many wild shifters believe. That civilization has domesticated you. Tamed what should be wild.”

“Tamed?” The word sears my mouth. Without a conscious decision, I move toward the tent exit. “Follow me, Alpha Blackthorn. Let me show you just how ‘tamed’ I am.”

Outside, the afternoon sun bathes the clearing in golden light. Settlement representatives and Shadow Wolves alike create a loose circle as I stride to the center, Zane following with fluid, predatory movements.

“Ambassador,” Elder Tessa cautions, “this isn’t the approach we discussed?—”

“Diplomacy requires mutual respect,” I reply, not taking my eyes off Zane. “Sometimes respect must be earned.”

I remove my formal jacket, tossing it aside. Kick off my boots. The earth feels good beneath my bare feet, reconnecting me to instincts I usually keep carefully controlled.

“Your beta questions my nature,” I say to Zane, loud enough for all to hear. “Calls me a pampered pet. Suggests I’ve lost my connection to my shifter essence.” I feel flames begin to kindle beneath my skin, responding to my rising emotions. “Perhaps the Shadow Wolves need a reminder that ‘civilized’ doesn’t mean ‘weak.’”

Murmurs ripple through both groups as they realize what I intend. Julian looks horrified, while the settlement elders appear shocked. The Shadow Wolves, by contrast, appear intrigued, shifting position for a better view.

Zane crosses his arms, his face challenging. “By all means, Ambassador. Show us what Haven’s Heart considers strength.”

The shift comes easily, heat flooding through my body as human form gives way to panther. Unlike most shifters,fire panthers transform in a blaze of elemental power—flames dancing across fur, heat shimmering the air around us. I complete the change in seconds, landing on four paws with a growl that silences every whisper.

In panther form, I stand taller than a natural big cat, my shoulders reaching the height of a man’s chest. My fur gleams auburn in the sunlight, with living flames tracing my spine and limbs. My claws extend, obsidian black and razor sharp, digging into the earth as I focus on Zane.

The Shadow Wolves react with surprised murmurs. Even Marcus seems taken aback by my transformation. But it’s Zane’s reaction I’m watching for, and I’m not disappointed. He widens his eyes slightly, genuine surprise breaking through his controlled facade.

I pace a circle around him, letting him see the fluid power in my movements, the lethal precision of a predator who hasn’t forgotten her nature. The flames intensify with each step, until I burn from within, embodying primal strength wrapped in fire.

When I complete the circle, I shift back to human form in another surge of flame, standing tall and unashamed of my nakedness, just as Zane had been unashamed the previous day. Let him see that civilized shifters retain the old ways too, when the body was simply a form, not something to hide.

“We’ve retained our essence, Alpha Blackthorn,” I state, my voice carrying across the suddenly silent clearing. “We’ve chosen to be more than just our instincts. That’s not weakness—it’s evolution.”

For a long moment, no one speaks. Zane’s expression transforms completely, the contempt replaced by something far more complex—respect mingled with another emotion Ican’t quite identify. Something that makes my skin prickle with awareness.

Then Marcus breaks the silence, stepping forward with a sneer. “Impressive light show, Ambassador. But parlor tricks don’t make you a true predator.”

“Enough, Marcus.” Zane’s command silences his beta instantly. He continues to observe me with that intense gaze, then nods slowly. “The Ambassador has made her point. Perhaps Haven’s Heart chose better than I expected.”

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