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He lifted his head high as he said firmly, ‘The bond I have with Emory Elite commands my devotion, but my heart tells me that my loyalty is still to the pack. I am not the only one that feels so strongly. You have my word and my vow that I am not Domini, and I will never willingly allow harm to come to the alpha.’ He glowed yellow as his oath took hold.
Tristan nodded slowly and his distrust faded. ‘I believe you. More importantly, so does my wolf, Arden.’ He looked at me. ‘Have you told Liam about the threat?’
‘No, not yet,’ Greg answered for me. ‘The only ones who know are in this room.’
Tristan looked surprised; he’d expected us to have told Liam rather than him. Now he knew it was the other way around he was pleased.
‘I called the meeting and we set out food,’ I explained. ‘Right about now, Finley will be bringing out the beer. Everyone should remain in the dining hall because it’s our biggest space for socialising.’
‘So if anyone wanders into the pack living room, they’re a Domini suspect,’ Tristan concluded. ‘Nice.’
‘Exactly.’ A yawn cracked my face. ‘It’s been a long day.’ So much had happened that it felt like eons since I’d gone for Sunday lunch with my family, even though it was only a few hours. I checked the time: 9pm. I’d found the note when I’d got back from lunch around 4pm. The twelve-hour deadline would pass while I was sleeping.
The door to my office slid open without so much as a knock. Instantly Jacob’s hands shifted into claws, Greg drew his gun and Tristan shifted into his wolf form. Were we a little jumpy? Yup, just a smidge.
The door opened further and in strolled Bastion, the deadliest griffin assassin to walk the Earth.
Chapter 13
He looked faintly amused to be greeted with so much aggression. Not one line of his body said that he was concerned about it.
‘Hi, Bastion,’ I said warmly, before any of my protectors could make a foolish move. To further demonstrate my affection, I stepped closer for a hug. As I gave him a firm squeeze, something – perhaps a tendril of my piping magic – told me that he really needed the contact so I held on longer than usual. I drew back to look at him. ‘Are you okay, lovely?’
He didn’t look okay: the bags under his eyes big enough to pack for a week-long holiday and his shoulders were drooping slightly. He was tired.
I frowned. ‘Have you not had the witch’s curse removed?’
When we’d rescued the kidnapped kids from the black witch, Bastion had kicked down a door and pulled down a hefty curse on himself. He’d required the blood of the cursing witch, Mrs Dawes, to lift it and he’d collected her blood when I’d killed her. He should have had the curse lifted by now.
His lips pressed tightly together. ‘No. The witches are currently refusing to help me.’
‘What? Why?’ I asked, outraged on his behalf.
‘I believe Amber DeLea still holds a grudge for me killing her lover,’ he admitted mildly, as if she were being unreasonable. To him, murder was just business.
I reached for my phone. ‘I’ll speak to her.’
He stilled my hand. ‘No. I’ll deal with her when the time is right.’
‘And when will that be?’ I huffed.
He smiled. ‘When I’m at death’s door.’
I looked at him critically. ‘Are you sure you’re not already there?’ I asked bluntly.
‘I’m a long way from it yet,’ he assured me calmly. ‘Jinx has sent me here to help you, and I also come bearing a gift. I heard on the grapevine that you needed this.’ He fixed me with a hard look. ‘I had to barter for it and the price was steep, so you’d better really need it, Lucy Barrett.’ He pulled out a squat vial of black liquid.
‘Final defence?’ I breathed.
‘Indeed.’ He passed it to me. ‘Keep it with you – though with your werewolf healing, I’m not sure why you need it.’
‘A seer told me to get it.’
He nodded. ‘Then it is right that you have it.’
‘What do I owe you?’ I asked, pocketing the precious liquid. I knew the potion was beyond rare: rumour was that the griffins paid a cool million per bottle.
Bastion’s eyes warmed. ‘Nothing, kiddo.’
