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“Are you not capable of leading a pack?”
She scowled, and beside her, Anders bristled. That the former Shadowed Star felt so strongly against someone who was merely questioning her had a rush of emotion flooding through her. She didn’t dare examine that emotion too closely, though. There were far more important matters to attend to than matters of the heart.
Of the heart. That was preposterous. Where had that idea come from?
“I am more than capable. I can lead, I can defend, and I can kill if need be.”
“And have you?”
“Killed? Yes.”
“So have I,” Anders cut in. “Her father sent werewolves to kill us both. In kind, we slew them all.”
“Jon, you will excuse us.” With a curt nod, Kastner left the room and headed for a staircase. At the end of the long hallway, bypassing several doors, he opened large wooden doors. This office was larger than Golden’s, with a thick rug covering the floor. Dark curtain pushed aside allowed plenty of natural light to flood the room.
Silence reigned, heavy and thick, like an oppressive cloud. Misti had always hated the fog. It obscured vision and made it difficult to hunt and track. It was always better to banish it away.
Taking a cue from Anders and being rash for once, she said, “We appreciate that you haven’t killed us yet.”
“Don’t be too appreciative. I haven’t decided yet if I should see if your fathers would ransom either of you.”
Anders snorted. “Not a chance.”
“Then maybe they will offer a reward for your heads instead.”
“Allowing us to have our heads intact might prove more beneficial to you,” Anders said smoothly.
“How so?” Kastner tapped a finger against his cheek in a clearly artificial move to demonstrate attentiveness.
“We know details of how our packs work. The guards, their shifts, about each werewolf—”
“You have been gone for ten years.” Kastner turned away from him as if Anders didn’t exist. “But you, yes, you, Misti, that’s another story. You could prove useful.”
“I will do anything to ensure both my and Anders’s safety,” she said cautiously. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She didn’t like how Kastner was eyeing her, as if she were for sale and he wanted to haggle down the price.
“That you care so much for a rival pack member gives me hope.” Kastner lifted his phone and pressed a button. “Jon, send me up Talon.”
“Talon?” Anders muttered into her ear. “What kind of a name is that?”
“The name of a werewolf who was born with his claws.” Kastner could not look more smug, Misti was sure, although to be fair, that was impressive. Normally, a child didn’t shift until they were at least one year old.
The door opened, and a handsome man who looked identical to how Misti imagined a younger Kastner would look stood there. He bowed to the alpha. “You summoned me, Father?”
“Yes.” Kastner shifted his gaze from his son to Misti. “I would like to introduce you to your fiancée.”
Misti swallowed hard. She could hardly refuse. “Hello, Talon. I’m Misti.”
Talon took her hand in his. He had a firm grip, not too tight, and his palm was warm. “Hello, Misti. I would be honored to be your husband.”
8
It took all of Anders self-control to not punch out that Talon guy. “Honored to be your husband.” What a bunch of horseshit. The guy was a tool, a puppet, willing to do anything his father said to curry favor.
Then again, Misti was a beautiful she-wolf. She would turn the head of any werewolf, hell any man for that matter.
Anders’s hackles would have raised if he was in wolf form. How he wanted to tear into the guy. Talon. What a name.
“Maybe we could talk a little before dinner,” Talon was saying.
