Page 101 of A Warrior's Fate

Isla ran her tongue over her teeth. “Yes.”

“She’s the Imperial Beta’s daughter,” Thyra added as if they’d spoken of her before and couldn’t believe that the brown-haired woman had forgotten it.

“So do you know the Imperial Heir?” Magnus asked, not even looking up from the food he was eating.

Isla raised a brow. “Yes?”

Why bring up Adrien?

The light-haired man bit into a piece of bread. “No offense, but what kind of alpha loses his mate? How can we expect him to—”

Without hesitation, Isla lifted her fork and pointed the sharp edge at him, effectively cutting him off. “If you’re smart, you’ll stop talking.” There was no hint of humor in her tone.

This was why Imperial Alpha Cassius had been so adamant about Adrien and Cora staying together, keeping their bond. Because of how it reflected on the hierarchy and how it was viewed by the other packs.

As Magnus narrowed his eyes, Rhydian offered, “She just took down two bak. I give you three seconds in the ring with her.”

Isla slowly lowered her utensil, giving the guard a thankful glance.

“The Hunt is overrated,” Magnus argued.

Overrated? She nearly died.

“I’d like to see you last twenty-four hours in the Wilds,” she challenged.

“I could go a week, but your alpha wouldn’t approve me.”

Her scowl softened. “Why not?”

“Because you can’t have too many warriors born of Deimos,” he sneered. “Then it may bring about the question if your pack is really the strongest on the continent.”

Isla’s jaw slackened. “That’s not…true.”

Magnus put his bread down and took hold of the sides of his tray, letting out a humorless laugh. “Of course, it’s not,” he said before rising from the table and walking away.

The silence that followed was so tense that Isla thought she’d suffocate.

“He’s just bitter,” Belle commented to break the quiet. “He was denied entry to the Hunt four years in a row before he gave up.”

Even with that statement, a stillness took the table again. In it, Isla began digging into her lunch.

“Isn’t our alpha going to have to take a mate at some point?”

She stopped eating, looking up at Thyra who’d had the slightest redness tinting her cheeks with the question.

While Isla became tense, Rhydian remained cool. He bit into the sandwich he’d made. “At some point.”

“Shouldn’t it be soon?” Belle commented brusquely. “We don’t have an heir. By the time he chooses someone and a bond takes form, it could be years. That can’t look good to other packs.”

Isla felt her stomach twist.

Thyra pulled a piece of her hair behind her ear. “Unless he finds his destined mate.” There was something light about her voice, hopeful.

Belle scoffed. “Yeah, right. What they’ll probably do is line up every she-wolf within these borders, and he’ll just take his pick. Who’s going to tell him no? He’s an alpha.” She rolled her eyes before mocking, “Or he could fall back into old patterns. Ones that are gorgeous, vain, and ‘Goddess forbid I lift a finger’.”

Thyra giggled. “You mean Amalie?”

“Amalie?” Isla said the name before she could stop herself. All their eyes went to her, and she shrunk slightly in her seat.

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