Page 36 of The Tracker's Dawn: Sunderverse
“We could use someone of your abilities to stop her,” Ulfen told Eric, raising his voice.
Slowly, Eric stood from his chair, placing the tips of his fingers on the desk and slightly leaning forward. “I would suggest you control yourself. You are inmyhome, and I won’t tolerate you disrespecting me or my guests.” His alpha command carried such intensity that the hairs on the back of my arms stood on end. Red bristled, even though the menace wasn’t directed at me.
A flash of fury sparked in Ulfen’s blue eyes. His jaw clenched and fists tightened. It took him a few beats and noticeable effort to gather his temper, but the next time he spoke it was with measured calm.
He turned to me. “Jacob Knight will be there,” he said.
“I know.” I tried to put on an indifferent expression, but I failed miserably.
I wanted Jake to be free of that burden, but he was a pack leader now, and he was compelled to make sure the members of the Knight pack weren’t set adrift now that Walter was dead. With the title came many responsibilities. The Knight legacy included a substantial fortune and many businesses that served as a livelihood for a lot of people, including the majority of his pack members. Decisions had to be made. Actions needed to be taken. As the inheritor, it all fell upon Jake’s shoulders, including attending Pack Rule meetings.
I held Ulfen’s probing gaze. He knew there was something between Jake and me, but he didn’t seem willing to come out and say it. After all, to everyone’s knowledge, Jake was going to marry Allison Blackridge in three days. Not that I would let that happen. I’d invite Mekare for tacos before I allowed that wedding to take place.
“We can’t allow that witch to destroy our way of life,” Ulfen said, changing tactics. “We have enjoyed peace for a long time and look at what she’s done in such a short time. How do you think things will look in a year if we don’t stop her? You do hope to maintain your residence in St. Louis, don’t you?”
Our silence was his answer.
“Then youmustcare about what happens,” he continued. “You have fought the hybrids successfully. You even rescued all those kids at the high school and all the cops were able to do was get themselves killed.”
“That’s not true. They rescued the rest of the kids and took down a few hybrids.”
He made a dismissive gesture.
“We are only two people,” Eric said.
“Two powerful alphas, with extraordinary abilities.” At this, his blue gaze focused entirely on me.
I shuffled from foot to foot, feeling self-conscious. “Don’t look at me. I’m just a newbie alpha without the pack. What little I know, Eric has taught me, and I’m far from competent at any of it.”
Ulfen huffed, whirled, and stomped toward the door. Before exiting, he stopped, his large hand on the handle, his chest rising and falling in an agitated manner. After a long moment, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “If you sit idle and she destroys our city, you will deserve the guilt that’ll haunt you for the rest of your lives.”
Sheesh, easy with the foreboding, dude!I was trying to be positive, and he wasn’t helping.
Turning away from us, he opened the door and marched out of the room, leaving his severe admonishment hanging in the air like a noose that, with time, would wrap itself around our necks to suffocate us slowly. I could almost feel it tightening around my neck already.
“God damn that righteous asshole!” Eric spat, making his way around the desk and sending a reproachful glower in my direction as if it were my fault.
I pondered his expression for a moment—my thoughts doing uncomfortable twisty things—and arrived at a feeling of lousy realization.
Shit!
Itwasmy fault. Just like with my family, Eric was in this situation because of me. If he had never agreed to help me, he would have...
“No!” I exclaimed, startling Eric. “This isnotmy fault.”
“Who said it was?”
“You did.”
“You must be imagining things.”
“Uh-uh,” I shook my finger at him. “Your eyes don’t lie. You were throwing all kinds of shade my way.”
“Get over yourself. This fucking mess is my own fault, and no one else’s.”
My mouth opened and closed in a perfect impersonation of a Pac-Man figure.
Rubbing his forehead and looking as tired as a two-hundred-year-old man, he walked toward the sofa and collapsed on it. He was silent for a long minute, then his face acquired a slack quality as if he’d fallen into some sort of trance.
