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“I’m sure you had nothing to do with that decision,” Daria told Melody sharply.

“Why, I’m hurt you’d suggest such a thing, Daria.” The fae’s laugh tinkled like wind chimes in a hurricane guaranteed to level your house.

I finally clocked what it was about her that had intrigued my wolf.

Melody carried the scent of magic too.

I was busy trying to figure out how that was possible when a noise at the far end of the table drew my gaze. A dwarf with an impressive braided beard and arms that looked like they could bench-press a small car sat on a high chair. His scent was earthy and metallic.

He also stank of alcohol.

“Finnic Ironfall,” Victoria said in a low voice. “He speaks for the dwarf clans.”

Finnic caught me looking and raised a tankard that had definitely not been provided by the Chamber of Commerce.

“To the white wolf,” he boomed, cheeks flushed and eyes gleaming. “May your enemies flee before you like rabbits before the hunt!”

“Er, thank you?” I said uncertainly in the frosty silence.

A delicate-looking woman with gossamer wings that shimmered faintly in the conference room lighting rolled her eyes next to the dwarf.

“I’m Titania Rohentyn, pixie representative,” she said in a voice like silver bells. “Ignore Finnic. He’s been celebrating since noon.“

“Celebrating what?” Bo whispered curiously under the table.

I hushed him.

Finnic overheard my dog. “Friday,” the dwarf said proudly.

Faint grumbles broke around the table. From the snatches I caught, it appeared Finnic always had something to celebrate at the Alliance meetings.

A man who looked like he could be Gavin’s much more serious older brother drummed his fingers irritably on the table.

“Perhaps we could maintain some semblance of decorum?” His nostrils sparked slightly as he spoke. “WeareAlliance members, after all.” He caught my stare. “I’m Wendall Baird, the representative for the dragon newt coalition,” he confessed gruffly.

I chewed my lip. “Coalition” sounded very official.

Wendall looked like he’d read my mind.

“We take our civic duties seriously,” the dragon newt stated with an austere dignity that suggested he’d never accidentally set fire to important paperwork, unlike another dragon newt I knew and associated with regularly.

The last figure at the table was partially hidden in the shadows. This seemed to be either a lighting problem or a deliberate aesthetic choice. I caught a glimpse of pale skin and sharp cheekbones belonging to someone who looked like he’d embraced the concept of brooding since birth.

The trace of sulfur that danced across my nostrils told me he was a demon.

“Oscar Roosevelt,” he said in a voice like silk over steel. “I represent the independent supernatural community.”

“That’s a fancy way of saying ‘miscellaneous monsters,’” Titania explained helpfully.

Daria cleared her throat. The ambient chatter around the table died down.

“Now that introductions have been made, let’s bring this meeting to order,” the witch said in a businesslike voice. “We have several items on tonight’s agenda, but I believe we should begin with the most pressing matter. The disposition of the crystal skull recovered from the recent…incident.”

All eyes turned to me. I resisted the urge to sink into my chair.

“The artifact is currently secured in our containment facility,” Daria continued, consulting her notes. “However, the question remains as to its ultimate fate.”

“We should destroy it, of course,” Wendall said immediately. “Nothing good ever comes from objects of that magnitude of dark power.”