Page 35 of Bride

Food for thought.

“Let me go,” Max whines. Like me, he’s sitting on a couch. Unlike me, his hands are tied behind his back, and he’s being watched by several guards with the kind of icy treatment one would reserve for someone who tried to kidnap a child.

Which is exactly what Max did.

“You can stop asking,” Cal tells him mildly. “Because it ain’t going to happen.” Out of all the Weres in here, it’s clear that he and Ken Doll are the highest ranking. They also appear to have a bad cop, even worse cop thing going on. Cal is affably scary, Ken is snarkily terrifying. Whatever works for them, I guess.

“I want to see my mother,” Max re-whines.

“Do you, champ? Are you sure? Because your mother is out there,humiliatedby what you just did and the company you’ve been keeping.”

“I dunno, Cal.” Ken fixes his baseball cap. “Maybe weshouldturn him over to his mother.” He leans forward. “I’d love to see his face when she declaws him.”

Max growls, but it turns into a whimper when his Alpha comes in, Juno and Mick in tow. I mouth a bashfulSo sorryto Mick, worried that he’ll get in trouble for taking a piss and leaving me alone for a minute. He waves his hand at me, and the entire room drops into silence, everyone focusing on Lowe like his presence is a gravitational pull. EvenIcannot look anywhere else, and abandon my toe to its infected destiny. Lowe looks so stone-cold pissed, I shiver. Though it could be the blast of the AC on my blistering flesh.

“Is Ana okay?” Gemma asks.

Lowe nods. “Playing with Misha.” Hands on his hips, he surveys the room. Every pair of eyes is instantly downcast.

Except for mine.

“Who wants to tell me what the fuck just happened?” he asks, staring at me. I expect everyone to explode into rushed explanations, but Were discipline is better than that. A heavy silence stretches, broken only by Lowe coming to stand in front of me. I’m ready to say my final words, but all he does is take off his zip-uphoodie, wrap it around my shuddery shoulders, then admire the result for a beat too long.

Everyone’s eyes are still on the ground.

“Cal,” he says. It’s embarrassing, the sense of relief I feel at not being called on.

“Everything was going according to plan,” Cal starts. “As expected, Max was trying to lure Ana away. We were tailing him to see who he would rendezvous with, when...”

He turns to me, and suddenly I am the center of the room. My relief was premature.

“I’m sorry.” I swallow. “I had no idea this was some kind of cahooty ambushy plan. If I see a guy who’s been a total dick to me absconding with a child, it’s only natural for me to...” To what? Why did I intervene, again? Now that the adrenaline has dried up, I cannot recall what my reasoning was. I’m no hero, nor do I want to be.

Ken Doll snorts. “Were you watching us from the window?”

“I mean... yeah?”

“Creepy. You need a hobby.”

“You’re right. I’ve heard amazing things about paragliding, or competitive duck herding. Maybe I could—oh, wait. I forgot that I’mliterallystuck in a one-hundred-and-thirty-square-foot bedroom twenty-fourseven.”

“Read a book, pointy.”

“Enough.” Lowe stalks across the room to crouch in front of Max, who instantly tries to scramble away. His tone is firm but surprisingly gentle when he asks, “Where were you going to take Ana?” Max doesn’t reply, so he continues, “You are fifteen, and I’m not going to punish you like an adult. I don’t know who you got mixed up with, or how, but I can help you. I will protect you.”

Sweat trickles down Max’s temples. He’s much younger than I thought. “You’re just going to get rid of me. If I tell you, you—”

“I do not hurt my own, especially not children,” Lowe growls. “I am not Roscoe.”

“No.” Max’s eyes flick to me. “He’d never have made alliances with the Vampyres or the Humans, would never have taken one in and left her to kill the Weres—”

“You’re right. Roscoe liked to kill the Weres on his own.” Max lowers his eyes. He’s just a boy. “Is an alliance with the Vampyres really worse than more Were deaths at their hands?”

Max seems to grapple with the question, Adam’s apple bobbing. Then he remembers his rage, and spurts out, “You’re not the rightful Alpha.”

It’s clearly abigfaux pas. Because every other Were in the room takes a step forward to intervene—and then stops at once at Lowe’s lifted hand.

“Who told you that?” he asks. Menacing, ruthless. “Maybe it’s a fair mistake. Maybe they simply weren’t there when Roscoe lost the challenge to me. I sent a message to the Loyals, let them know that I’d gladly accept the challenge from any of them. And yet.” Lowe stands. “Dissent and discussion are welcome. I’m not Roscoe, and I won’t dispose of those who disagree with me. But trying to take a child, sabotage important infrastructure, brutally attack huddles who support me... This is violent insurgence. And as long as I’m Alpha of this pack, I’m not going to accept it. Who sent you here, Max?”

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