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Through the Great Pack.
I recoiled. But then a wolf will die.
This is war. In any battle, we risk death. But with this action, how many will we save? How many loners can we bring home, back into the heart of the pack? Finley and Daniella have found their place with us – who are we to deny the others?
A lump suddenly appeared in my throat as I remembered Finley’s gratitude at finding a home and his impassioned defence of Noah. Much as it pained me to admit it, Esme was right.
I hated the idea of playing God, of choosing to save twenty or thirty lives over the one wolf that would die from the Great Pack, but the loners deserved to be saved. Someone was still running the black tourneys, albeit someone other than Ghost. Without Larsden passing on their names maybe the current loners would avoid being recruited – but maybe they wouldn’t. And what was the point of the Great Pack if I never used it, especially for the good of the wolves?
I licked my lips, and then Esme and I reached out to the Great Pack. I need to speak to the lone wolves. I want to save them.
That is right, the voice of the many said approvingly. It is right that they be pack.
My mind was tugged, pulled forward and yanked into place. I was connected to many; there were more than thirty, way more.
Speak. They will hear you, the chorus of the Great Pack said.
Lone wolves, your path has been dark and difficult. We mourn the road that has led you to be lone, and we applaud your decision to leave your packs rather than stay and endure more abuse from dark alphas. We have been proclaimed Queen of the UK Werewolves, and we will seize the Crown of Torr. We do not intend to be a mere figurehead.
We will destroy our enemies, Esme promised darkly, and we will save you. Come to us and be safe.
Travel to the Home Counties pack, I added. You will be welcome and you will find food and shelter. No one will ever force you to fight in the black tourneys or attack another that has not offered you harm first. Come to our pack and we will care for you.
Connected as I was to their minds, it was almost impossible to tell what they were thinking individually, but from them collectively I felt both shock and tenuous hope. I disconnected from their minds but kept the link with the Great Pack. I do not intend to call on you lightly but, since we are already conversing, I have questions.
Speak, our Queen.
The wolves’ air power…
The air power has been lost.
I’m aware, I said drily. How do I recover it?
The seat of power has the answers that you seek, but beware. We fear it has been twisted in the darkness. Its connection to us has been severed.
It wasn’t re-established when the Great Pack was restored to the wolves?
It was not.
Why not?
The artefact was stolen.
What is the artefact?
The seat of power has the answers that you seek, the Great Pack repeated. Tread lightly, Lucy Barrett.
Abruptly, the connection snapped like a rubber band stretched too far. ‘Dammit,’ I said aloud. ‘I wasn’t done.’
Whether I was done or not, the conversation was over. I guessed finding out how to deal with the dark and terrifying seat of power – whatever it was – was all on me. Nobody ever told you how shitty it was to be a ruler; still, tough as it was, there was no going back. I had to move forward, or I’d be killed.
And I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to save as many wolves as possible before that happened.
Chapter 27
I was dressed in all my finery: a huge red ball gown, red elbow-length gloves and a full face of makeup. I was ready to go into battle, even if it wasn’t the type of fight Esme understood. I slipped on my heels and admired the effect. With my blonde hair piled high except for a few loose tendrils, I felt like an actual Queen. All I was missing was the damned crown.
It is not good camouflage, Esme huffed. You make us stand out with that red dress and those red lips.
