My brother-in-law's face was grave now, and he angled his body away from the joviality that filled the rest of the room as he lowered his voice. Fen immediately glanced toward me, asking without words whether she should leave us alone, but I shook my head shortly in reply. No, I trusted the female yahoo to take part in our conversation. In fact, I looked forward to hearing what she had to say on the topic.
When Fen saw that I was waiting on her reaction, she spoke up. "I can think of two or three kids who'd be willing to risk it for Ember's sake. And I agree with Dale—it's the right thing to do. Any one of us would willingly accept the consequences if it meant keeping our favorite bloodling safe."
So I signed off on the next stage in the testing process. But I couldn't help wishing that there was some way to take the risk onto my own shoulders rather than outsourcing it to the pack at large.
And putting Ember in danger in the process.
***
Which is why I broke a promise to myself an hour later.
When he left, I'd silently vowed not to bother Wolfie while he was assisting Chase with Operation Childhood Sweetheart. My mate would call me, I knew, as soon as he had a free moment and access to cell towers. In the meantime, bugging him would likely only slow his return and get in his way.
But I still pulled out my phone that morning during a lull in pack business, locked the door, and dialed my mate's number. The call went directly to voice mail of course, but I spilled my guts anyway. I told Wolfie everything—about the Tribunal's demands, about my selection of peacekeeping as the best of a series of bad choices, and about Dale's efforts to ensure F2F was safe for use on bloodlings.
"But even if the drug won't physically harm her, I still don't know if this is the right thing to do," I murmured into the phone. It wasn't that I was afraid of being overheard, not in this sound-proofed office and not when every member of our clan respected a locked door. Instead, I was ashamed of admitting to my mate that I was choosing a course of action in his absence that I didn't think he would have selected had he been standing in my shoes. Surely Wolfie would find a way around precipitously transforming Ember into a human girl, especially after he'd made it clear how strongly he felt about the topic.
"I know you wanted Ember to spend her childhood as a wolf. And I'm not going against that on purpose," I continued. "But I just can't think of any other way to get Justin off our backs.
"So, if you get a minute, I hope you'll give me a call," I finished, sensing someone's approach even though I couldn't hear footsteps outside the confines of my office. Sure enough, when I flicked the lock and opened the door, Ethan stood waiting on the other side.
And he didn't look so good.
Despite myself, I had to admit that Cricket had been right. My half-brother wasn't as perky as he'd been when I picked him up at the boarding school a few days earlier. Instead, his eyes were now dilated and his gait was unsteady. Surely the teenager couldn't be drunk?
But the teenager's words weren't slurred when he opened his mouth. And the information he had to impart pushed any concern for my brother onto the back burner.
"The peacekeeper is here," Ethan informed me. "He's cutting Ember down from her balloons as we speak, and he wants to talk to you ASAP."
I could tell Ethan was judging me yet again for letting the Barn rats' antics continue. And I had to admit that Ember was definitely still being treated as a toy by our pack.
In this case, in fact, the oversight had flown back in my face much faster than expected. I could only imagine what the peacekeeper might think of my parenting skills and how that would affect my upcoming contest with Justin over guardianship of Ember.
So I dropped my phone into my pocket and broke into a sprint. Time to get a start on that damage control....
Chapter 8
"I'm not here to take Ember away from you," the peacekeeper said as soon as I walked into the room. Dale had given us his own office for the sake of privacy...which was completely useless in a werewolf setting since I knew an ever-growing number of pack mates was listening in from the other side of the door. Perhaps our audience would be relieved by this auspicious beginning, but I suspected it was too soon to let down my guard.
On the other hand, purposeless rudeness never had a place in my life. So I held out my hand in greeting, taking in the way Ember had snuggled down into the peacekeeper's lap while waiting for me to arrive. Granted, our bloodling pup seemed to love everyone without exception. But surely she wouldn't have succumbed to nap time so quickly if this stranger wasn't worthy of at least a modicum of trust.
Of course, between her traumatic birth and the current day, I'd never allowed someone I didn't feel was worthy to come into the bloodling's life. So perhaps I shouldn't put too much stock in her sleepy contentment.
"I'm Terra Wilder," I said simply, rather than worrying further over Ember's assessment of our visitor. As I spoke, I noticed that the man in front of me was just that—a man—and I couldn't quite prevent my eyebrows from rising in surprise at the realization. Surely the Tribunal had dozens of powerful werewolves at their beck and call. So why would they send a human to do their bidding?
"And I'm Frank," the peacekeeper replied. "As I'm sure you've noticed, I don't have a wolf inside me. I am, however, three-quarters werewolf by heritage, so you can speak freely on shifter topics. The Tribunal has simply found that tempers are less likely to reach a boiling point during the peacekeeping phase if the go-between possesses no lupine impulses."
"Works for me," I said, taking a seat in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. I could definitely see similar negotiations between angry alphas descending into a bloodbath, especially if you added a third flaring werewolf temper into the mix. Until this week, I would have said I was immune to that type of alpha aggression, but a second glance at the napping bloodling reminded me that there actually was an issue that pushed all my buttons.
And that was the precise topic we were here to discuss.
Still, I resolved to be on my best behavior for the sake of that same bloodling, so I channeled Cricket as I offered my guest a seat and refreshments. After all, being a good hostess was always the right thing to do. Plus, if Frank underestimated me and took pity on my femaleness...well, so much the better.
We drifted through several minutes of small talk, my wolf on high alert for the slightest hint that the peacekeeper might have ulterior motives or secret sympathies for our opponent. But we found no sign of negativity in either his words or expression. Instead, the peacekeeper appeared to be just what he'd said he was—an independent Tribunal employee charged with finding a way to resolve the differences between our two packs without any impact on the surrounding community. In other words, our region's governing body was hoping that if Justin and I dealt with this issue under the watchful eye of a peacekeeper, we wouldn't spill any non-shifter blood or reveal the reality of werewolves to the human community during a full-scale war.
Looks like the Tribunal and I have the same goals after all.
I was finally starting to relax into our conversation, in fact, when Frank provided his final assessment of the issue. "I can tell Ember is happy here," he offered, one side of his mouth quirking up into a regretful smile. "But, unfortunately, shifter court is nothing like human court. The well-being of the child isn't our concern. Instead, this is a simple matter of possession."
"Possession?" I parroted, shocked at the phrase and hoping the bloodling in question was still sound asleep. I didn't want Ember to hear herself likened to a chair or a car that we'd stolen from its rightful owner and were required to return.
Or rather, likened to a discarded sock that Justin had left behind but decided—now that it was laundered and patched up—to reclaim.
"Yes," the peacekeeper replied with sympathy in his voice. "By werewolf law, a child belongs to her parents until the first transformation. At that point, the young shifter has officially reached her maturity and can choose where she wants to live. But in the interim, I'm
afraid I have to tell you that Ember technically belongs to Justin Young."
Frank paused, then elaborated, his tone kind but his words not nearly so heartening. "I'm afraid you don't have a leg to stand on. If this issue goes to court, the Tribunal will have no choice but to award custody to the bloodling's father. And if you resist her removal, then the full force of our region will come down on the heads of every member of your pack."
It was a threat, albeit a carefully worded one. Frank meant that our refusal to relinquish Ember would result in all-out slaughter, our clan wiped from the face of the earth.
He didn't have to say anything else to get my full attention. I knew from stories told at All-Pack and from childhood horror tales whispered around the campfire that gainsaying the Tribunal was akin to suicide. After all, what was the point of a werewolf governing body if their bite wasn't worse than their bark?
I also knew that repercussions of my actions wouldn't just fly back on me, but also on every person who lived in Haven. Still, I couldn't stomach the idea of turning out the little pup who had wiggled her way into our hearts.
We won't, my wolf said simply, and I had to agree.
So I shivered at the mental image, but my voice was firm when I replied. "So you are here to take Ember away from us."
"No, I won't be doing anything with Ember today unless you so choose," Frank said, granting a stay of execution. "You and the child's father can state your case in front of the full Tribunal first and perhaps the two of you can come to a compromise. If, for example, your pack is willing to trade concessions in place of the pup, I understand that Justin Young might be willing to give up control of Ember. He did mention that he was interested in the return of his sword, for example. Or his wife."
His sword? His wife? Now I wasn't just worried, but also confused.
"So Sarah isn't part of this suit?" I asked.
"No, the mother is absent," Frank replied. "In fact...." And now he lowered his voice almost as if he were telling me a secret that wasn't entirely within his duties to disclose. "Well, you'll know soon enough that Sarah Young has gone missing. Technically, she has just as much right to Ember as the pup's father does."
Frank paused and gazed directly into my eyes. Even though he was a human, the peacekeeper had clearly been raised by werewolves, so he should have understood that the gesture was tantamount to asking to be slapped down by an alpha, especially a tense and upset one. But I could tell the peacekeeper was trying to communicate the importance of his preceding sentence, so I simply nodded in response.
"In any case," Frank continued at a more normal pitch, "since the mother hasn't come forward, the father would be granted full custody as the case currently stands."
The pup in question woke as the peacekeeper finished speaking, then she scrambled up onto her hind legs so she could lick his face. And despite tense muscles that begged me to grab the wolfing and run, I had to agree with her assessment. The news Frank had brought into our pack wasn't positive, but he seemed like a nice guy who was doing his best to help out while walking the fine line of impartiality.
So I thanked our guest while saving his clothes from the bloodling's mauling. And I didn't get angry when the peacekeeper explained that our hearing was scheduled for three days hence.
But after Frank had walked out the door and I was left alone with my thoughts and my charge, I hugged the bloodling so tightly to my chest that she squeaked. No way was I giving this wolf pup back.
***
"Do you understand what I'm telling you?" I asked the following afternoon. Ethan, Ember, and I were outside, the pup corralled between our legs as we attempted to get the bloodling's feedback on her future. Because, with no way of finding Sarah or getting in touch with my mate, it seemed like we needed to make a decision as soon as possible on the question of whether to inject Ember with F2F.
And I figured the wolfling in question should have a say in her own future...assuming she was able to understand the issue at hand, that was. An assumption that remained to be tested.
The bloodling was currently busy gnawing on the cuff of Ethan's jeans, so I picked her up to point her nose in my general direction. I'd found that it was sometimes necessary to refocus the pup's attention or even to repeat my question if I expected a response. But, most of the time, the wolfing had been listening to what I was saying even if she'd only considered it background chatter at the time. So I asked again: "Were you paying attention? What do you think?"
Ember took a second to lick my chin, but then she nodded her head adamantly. Yes, she was telling me, she'd been paying attention and understood what I was telling her.
Or maybe she was saying that she liked to be picked up. Or that she was happy outside in the sun. Or any one of a number of other potential affirmatives. Ember was a happy puppy and "yes" was one of her favorite sign-language words.
I sighed. While I'd love to give Ember a say in her own future, it looked like her inability to speak made it impossible to determine what she really thought.
On the other hand, what the bloodling lacked in words, she made up for in determination. And, apparently, she was willing to put in the effort this time to get her point across. A few minutes earlier, I'd presented both sides of the story as impartially as possible, not giving the bloodling a clue about my own feelings on the matter. But now Ember reached out to tap me on the chest with one paw. What did I think was the right solution? she seemed to be asking.
"I don't know what's the best thing to do," I replied, keeping my irritability in check. I wasn't angry with the pup, of course, but with myself for not being able to come up with a better way out of this impossible situation than to place the decision in the paws of a five-month-old bloodling. "Wolfie thinks you should stay wolf," I added, doing my best to give the devil's advocate position. "Or at least he did before he left. He thinks you'll enjoy a bloodling childhood more than a human one. And, as I explained a minute ago, the drug we'd use to change you might have unwanted side effects.
"Of course," I added. "Wolfie also didn't know that your father wanted you back when he made that decision. So who knows what he'd say now."
Ember shook her head adamantly and I had to smile. "Yes, I know you don't think Justin is your father. But, technically, he is. And the Tribunal is big on technicalities."
The wolfling wrinkled up her fuzzy little nose with such disgust that she wrung a laugh out of a situation that I'd considered entirely mirthless. Then she squirmed out of my grasp and headed over to my half-brother, tapping his chest in turn.
"Me?" Ethan asked, his brow wrinkling up in confusion. I'd explained that I wanted him present to help me look out for his niece's best interests, but the wolfling had hit upon the true reason I'd invited my brother along. If anyone could give the other side of the story a proper spin, it was a boy who had grown up embraced by a werewolf pack, then had been turned away when he was unable to shift at the proper time.
Yes, you, I could almost see the little pup rebutting as she rolled her eyes. And we girls both listened as my brother ran through the same arguments he'd used previously to explain why he thought it wasn't fair for Ember to grow up in fur form.
"Plus," Ethan finished, "in this case it's a no-brainer. Whether or not you'd be better off without a tail for the next few years, I know you should be here rather than with your biological father. So my vote is for you to shift."
Her uncle's explanation must have been satisfactory because Ember cocked her head to one side in consideration. But then a dark thought apparently rolled through a mind that was usually focused on rainbows and sunbeams. Because, in an entirely uncharacteristic show of weakness, the pup turned on her heel and raced back to press herself against my side, her small body quivering with fear.
So the importance of her decision had finally sunken in...and the bloodling would rather I make the decision for her. I didn't blame her one bit. I'd been calling Wolfie every morning and evening in hopes that someone older and wiser could take the same de
cision out of my hands.
You know F2F is the right thing to do, my wolf told me. For her, the issues were simpler. Ember was our ward, and we both knew we'd take any steps necessary to protect the pup from a father who had kicked her across the room mere minutes after her birth.
It was time to get real. Sure, I hoped that we'd be able to hunt down Sarah in the next forty-eight hours and that the bloodling's mother would fight Justin for custody of their child. But I knew that was an extremely long shot. Sarah had never shown much interest in the fate of her daughter in the past, and she'd proven herself to be far from reliable. So I couldn't count on the pack princess stepping up to the plate, even though I vowed not to leave any stone unturned in our attempts to locate her.
In the meantime, Dale had assured me that the drug had a 98% chance of working on Ember with no unintended side effects. Worst-case scenario, the bloodling would end up with a pounding headache, but she'd almost certainly be as good as new the next morning. So why was I hesitating?
Because, I had to admit, the real issue was deeply personal. I didn't want to inject Ember with F2F while Wolfie was absent, then have to explain my actions to a dubious mate when he came back into our lives. I hoped our bond was strong enough to weather yet another betrayal, but I was well aware that our relationship scorecard already marked two strikes against me. So I wouldn't blame Wolfie one bit if this last unilateral decision cast me entirely off his playing field.
Still, a true alpha wouldn't allow her personal feelings to stand in the way of the pack's greater good. So I rolled Ember over onto her back and tickled her furry little belly before swinging her up into the air in one of her favorite games.
"Actually, bloodling mine, you don't need to worry about it," I reassured her. "I'll make the decision when the time is right. All you have to do is to continue being your adorable little self."
Alpha Ascendant: A Fantastical Werewolf Adventure (Wolf Rampant Book 3) Page 6