by Ann Aguirre
“Be friends? Screw that.” Slay let out a bitter laugh. “You weren’t alone for the last ten years, sweetness. Did you ever see me with anybody else or even hear a whisper of it?”
“I figured it was only a matter of time. I’ve heard your mother talking.”
He sagged forward, elbows on his knees, and he couldn’t meet her gaze for a few seconds. “It’s not like I haven’t been ignoring her for years.”
“Now you don’t have to.” That response came out quiet and cold.
Slay swallowed hard, gazing up at her with pleading eyes. “Well, shit. I never imagined you’d give up on me. I always…” his voice hitched, “…thought we were forever.”
She considered saying, I wanted us to be. But it wouldn’t change anything. I won’t cry. I won’t. Instead she took a step back.
“Everything changes. And love doesn’t survive untended.”
The next words he spat at her through clenched teeth. “Fine, I’m a dumb shit and I didn’t make it clear how I feel, but whatever I did wrong, it’s hard not to feel like you traded up. Why settle for second when you can fuck your way to first?”
That poison verbal dart landed. “I finally understand how you could treat me like Latent was the worst thing I could be. You’re just fucking small, Slay.”
“That’s not what you said a couple of weeks ago.”
“And… I think we’re done here.”
As she turned for the door, suddenly he was there, wrapping his arms about her from behind. His familiar scent dizzied her: sage, cedar, and sandalwood. “I’m sorry. I lost my mind for a minute. Please don’t leave me. I don’t care what happened on the mountain. Just… tell Dom it was a mistake.”
Tears burned in her eyes and the back of her throat. It was too late; she’d made a promise, and Pru took her vows seriously. Besides, love wasn’t everything. Respect and friendship mattered too. If she could keep Dom on a steady keel, Ash Valley would be better off. She let Slay hug her for a moment longer and then she broke his hold.
“You were never strong enough to do that before,” he said in a soft, shattered voice.
“I’m different now.” And it was true. She wasn’t the woman who had waited for his love endlessly, wishing she could command it.
With that, she put Slay behind her and didn’t look back.
More than once, Dom was tempted to double back because Slay had looked murderous.
Only the certainty that his second wouldn’t hurt Pru kept his feet moving in the opposite direction. The hold bustled with activity as he strode down the main thoroughfare. All the buildings gleamed with the same stone that formed the wall. A few things had changed in his absence; they had torn down the old repair center, and there were three new shops. Belatedly, he wondered how the factories were doing, as when he’d left, he let go of the reins completely. Members of the pride greeted him with varying levels of disbelief, excitement, and relief. Two of his father’s friends hugged him and pounded his back so hard that he’d probably have bruises.
“You were missed, son.” Caio had been his father’s second, and he’d declined the role of pride leader when Dom’s father passed.
“Thanks.”
“Get to the hall before Beren flips a table. He’s not happy about the delay, says he’s got some disturbing news about the Golgoth. But Slay has been plying him with liquor while betting his whole hand on Pru.”
It wasn’t a bad move. She came through.
“Raff?” he asked.
“Busy flirting with Magda. You know how that wolf is.”
“Thanks for the update.”
“We’ll talk more soon.” With a pat in parting, the older man went about his business, leaving Dom to do the same.
After making the bear and wolf leaders wait this long, ten minutes longer wouldn’t hurt; it would be bad manners to greet them dressed in what amounted to pajamas and slippers. He got stopped twice more before he reached the residential annex. Outside the apartment he’d shared with Dalena, he hesitated. Finding everything exactly as she’d left it would cut him wide open, but it might be even worse if all her things were gone. Briefly he rested his brow against the door. But it wouldn’t do for anybody to catch him being weak. The pride needed to believe he could steer them through the coming crisis.
On a bracing breath, he entered the pin; the lock clicked open and he stepped inside. Somebody had obviously been cleaning, as the furniture shone, not a speck of dust anywhere. Same gray sofa with burgundy pillows, same overstuffed armchair, but the blood-stained carpet had been removed and replaced with a fluffy rug patterned in black and gray. Their wedding portrait still hung, and Dalena’s smile hammered him until he couldn’t breathe.
This is where she died.
He skirted that part of the salon and went to the bedroom, pulse pounding in his ears. But she was gone from here; his clothes hung alone in the wardrobe, and none of her powders or lotions remained on the shelves. For a moment, he breathed in and imagined he could smell the honey and lemon of her skin. But the room only gave back clean linen and chamomile soap.
With effort, he forced down the sadness and got ready as quick as he could. Half an hour later, Dom inspected the loose fit of the charcoal suit he’d chosen. Still, with a fresh shave and proper clothing, he no longer looked like a scarecrow. As he left the apartment, he felt lighter, hurrying toward the main hall.
Slay must still be talking to Pru because he only found Beren, Magda, and Raff in the lounge, which was now decorated in russet and gold. They had been offered drinks and refreshments, and he felt sure they both had been allotted private quarters where they could rest and curse him. Beren was an enormous man with a shock of silver hair; the years since Dom had seen him hadn’t been kind, weathering his face and giving him a perpetual air of irritation. Raff hadn’t spotted him yet, but the way he was smiling at Magda, he didn’t seem to mind the wait.
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Dom said smoothly.
“Finally stopped contemplating your navel?” Beren rose and offered a hand for a crushing shake.
Typical of the bear boss.
“I thought you went up the mountain to die,” said Magda, slapping Dom’s shoulder.
Mags had been chief of security since before his father died, and she was taller than Raff by a couple of inches, but the differential didn’t dampen the wolf lord’s interest. Raff came over to greet Dom; his dark hair was longer than it had been at the last meet, and he’d grown a full beard, shaped to partially hide a fresh scar on his right cheek. Dom didn’t ask; unless it impacted the alliance, he had no interest in wolf pack or bear clan affairs.
“Good to see you. Finally,” Raff added.
It seemed best to play host. “Have you eaten?”
“Several times.” Beren waved an impatient hand. “There are far more important matters to discuss.”
Nodding a dismissal at his security chief, he led the way to a cluster of comfortable chairs. This part of pride leadership didn’t trouble him. “Tell me.”
“There have been skirmishes on the northern border.” Beren seemed sure he would immediately grasp the severity of the situation.
“Golgoth?” he guessed.
The bear leader nodded. “The same. Raff hasn’t spotted any yet in the east, but my scouts are picking up a lot of activity, troop movements and supplies being shipped.”
Dom sighed. “That doesn’t bode well.”
“They’ll wait for the treaty to expire,” Raff predicted. “If I had to lay odds, I’d say they’ll send someone to stall during peace talks and strike while we’re focused here.”
“But where?” He didn’t necessarily expect an answer.
“I’ve assigned my best to find out,” Beren said.
“What do we know about the delegate the Golgoth are sending this time?” he wondered.
Beren had the answer. “Alastor is the youngest prince, old King Theno’s get. I don’t think he’s set foot outside Golgoth lands before.”
�
�Personality?” Dom glanced between Beren and Raff, but both men shrugged.
Past precedent suggested this Golgoth prince would be brutal and bad-tempered; otherwise, he wouldn’t have survived the abattoir he called home. Now and then, captives broke free and crawled back to their clans, but they were never the same afterward, scarred in every conceivable way. Ash Valley had one such survivor, and he never left his apartment. Both Magda and Arran had visited Eamon often, as of three years ago. On a surge of guilt, Dom wondered how he was faring.
I let so much shit slip, like I’m the only one who matters.
“I have some news about the Eldritch.” Dom offered a concise version of the Noxblade attack at the retreat.
Beren scowled, standard for the old bear, and Raff rubbed at his beard like he wasn’t used to it. “No disrespect to Slay,” said the wolf lord, “but I’m glad as hell to see you.”
“I’ll have some hard questions for the Eldritch when their party arrives.”
“They’ll deny it to the death,” Raff muttered.
That sounded about right. While he could probably smell a lie under normal circumstances, the Eldritch had witchy ways and dark magic. Everyone in Ash Valley would be on edge until the two emissary groups departed, and it fell to him to avoid mortal insults and an escalation to bloodshed on their home ground. The prospect made him tired.
“Unless either of you have pressing business, I’d like to defer more detailed discussion for when we’re all fresh in the morning. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Since he’d told them about the sabotaged Rover and running from the retreat, he got understanding nods from both Beren and Raff. A few more formalities, clasps on the back, and Dom made his escape. By this point he was sweating, and he really fucking wanted a drink. Talk about being thrown into the deep end. The Golgoth threat swam in his head like carnivorous fish, devouring all other thoughts.
Which was why he didn’t see Slay coming. When his second grabbed his lapels, the murderous expression he’d noted before hadn’t faded any. If anything, Slay seemed like he planned to pull Dom’s head off and punt it.
“You backstabbing sack of shit. How could you take her from me?”
Despite knowing honesty was probably the wrong move, Dom answered, “Look, you’ve got it the wrong way round. I didn’t steal her, you sent her to me. So… respect Pru’s wishes. I promise I’ll look after her from now on.”
“Tell that to Dalena,” Slay snarled, before punching Dom in the face.
7.
When Pru tracked Dom down between the admin center and the residential annex, he had a split lip that was already swelling. Her mouth compressed. “Slay?”
“I gave him one free shot.” He also carried a palpable air of fatigue, with lines bracketing his mouth and shadows beneath his eyes, but she didn’t think that weight came from his second.
“You shouldn’t have. I’m sorry he’s hurt, but we didn’t do anything wrong.” Stretching up on tiptoe, she inspected the damage. “Let’s get that iced down. The last thing we need is for the other leaders to carry tales about dissent in our ranks.”
“Beren wouldn’t do that.”
With a faint smile, she noticed he didn’t vouch for Raff in the same way. “It’s been a hell of a day, huh?”
Dom answered with a sigh that said he was burnt to a nub. “No arguments. But we haven’t talked about… much of anything. I should’ve asked your father first, made sure he has no objections. And I need to make a formal announcement—”
“He’ll be so happy I can shift—and I look so much like Mum when I do—that he won’t care about anything else. Don’t worry about acknowledging me right now. Save your energy for strategizing with Raff and Beren, and then the conclave, of course.”
“Why do I suddenly think that arguing with you will prove impossible?”
Pru grinned. “Just accept that I’m always working for your welfare, and there will be no need for troublesome independent thought.”
Delight spiraled through her when he laughed. “So I’m to become a puppet monarch?”
“It will only hurt a little when I attach the strings.” Teasing, she dug her fingers into his back, momentarily forgetting how much he liked being touched there.
“Mmm.” He arched, eyes drifting half shut. “Keep doing that, and I’d probably let you.”
For a moment, she worked her hand up and down his spine. “There is something we need to discuss, though.”
“Hm?”
“I don’t want to move into your old apartment. It would be better to have a fresh start.”
Anxiety percolated because he might think she wanted him to forget Dalena, but it was only that she couldn’t stand living where her best friend died. That’s not healthy for him either. Scrubbing away the evidence of the most horrific crime in Ash Valley history? Pru had done it, sobbing so hard she almost threw up. It had been hell taking care of the place in his absence. Pru had boxed up all Dalena’s things because Dom was too mad with grief, then she secured them in storage. Afterward, she’d aired the flat, dusted, and polished once a week.
But I can’t live there.
“What do you have in mind?” Dom only hesitated slightly, making her think he was open to the idea.
“My place would be better. We can redecorate completely so it feels like ours, if that’s all right with you.”
“I don’t have the mental energy for lamps and cushions, but I appreciate the offer. What about your father, though?”
“He’s almost never home. Will you mind when he is?”
Dom shook his head. “It’ll be nice, I think.”
“What?”
“Being part of a family again.”
After Dalena’s murder, her family moved out of Ash Valley, leaving Dom alone. Pru understood why they’d want a fresh start, but maybe he wouldn’t have spent three years in seclusion if the pride had tried a little harder to support him. In retrospect, she squirmed over how she’d let him down.
“Well, I have two aunts and an uncle, plus like ten cousins. I can invite them all over regularly to pester you.”
“You’re threatening me with your extended family? I say bring it on since I’m not the one cooking all that food.”
“We’ll see how cocky you are when my little cousin is climbing you.” Smiling, she took his arm. “This way. Second floor, next building.”
“Why do you think I don’t know where you live?”
Color washed her cheeks. “Sorry. Force of habit. To be honest, I don’t expect anyone to remember anything about me.”
“I’m not just anyone, Pru. Not to mention, we’ve been friends forever. For instance, I remember how often Slay made you cry pulling your hair.”
“Good times,” she said wryly.
Dom looked like he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he swallowed it. “Will you help me pack?”
“Of course.”
Stepping into his old apartment sent a shiver through her. How would Dalena feel about this? Does she think I’m stealing him? But since it was for the pride, her friend would probably understand. Still, she couldn’t look long at the photo of Dom and Dalena, so perfect together, so in love. Her chest tightened as she went to the bedroom. Half an hour later, Pru carried two bags to the front door, and Dom caught up with a couple more.
“I think that’s everything I need in the short-term. Eventually I’ll give this place back to the pride and let admin assign a newlywed couple here or something.”
“Sounds good.”
They walked in companionable silence to her flat. At the door, she paused. “The pin is my mother’s birthday, 3105.”
“I’ll make a note.”
His eyes flickered, likely remembering that the code to his old apartment had been Dalena’s. But he only nodded as she punched in the numbers and ushered him in. Pru couldn’t remember the last time he’d been here, or if he’d seen the place since she rearranged the furniture. Done in earth tones, it was a cozy pla
ce with lots of pictures commemorating their happiest moments. Her mother smiled from the shelves beside the tan sofa.
“How is it?”
“I never want to leave.”
At first she thought he was kidding, but when he pulled off his jacket and fell onto the couch, loosening his shirt collar, it seemed he did feel at home. With a soft smile, she carried his belongings to her room in two trips. Since he’d closed his eyes, Dom didn’t appear to realize she was unpacking for him until she was half done.
Looking abashed, he hovered in the doorway. “That’s daunting efficiency, Pru. If you keep this up, you’ll spoil the shit out of me.”
“Somebody should,” she said.
“I feel like I ought to make some compelling arguments otherwise, but all I’ve got is this stupid smile.” Dom did look softer than she’d ever seen, except when he’d forgotten about pride business and played with Dalena. “How much longer will you be on vacation?” At her surprised look, he went on, “You must be on winter break, unless the school schedule has changed.”
“It hasn’t. I’ve got almost three weeks to help out with the conclave.” Pru couldn’t hold his gaze, as it felt strange to be the sole focus of his attention. Everything happened so fast that it didn’t sink in before, but now realization settled on her like a slow-falling snow. Guilt swept her in a suffocating wave, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe, seeing only Dalena’s eyes and imagining how her friend would feel.
“I’m glad,” Dom said. “I’ll need you to get me up to speed.”
Pru nodded. “Why don’t you take a bath? I’ll finish up in here, find you some pajamas, and then get started on dinner.”
He shook his head, laughing quietly. “Shower, yes to clothes, and I’ll help you cook.”
God, this is strange.
But not in a bad way. It didn’t take long to clear out space in her drawers to put away the rest of his clothes. She left loose drawstring pants on the bed, along with briefs and a thin, comfortable shirt. For obvious reasons, she had no idea what Dom normally wore to bed. Pru could hardly believe he was here for good; they’d be sleeping together from this day forward.
