by KH LeMoyne
Breslin strode into Deacon’s office, not having to look far to find the alpha pair on the couch surrounded by thick file folders. He looked pointedly from Lena to Deacon. “I understand you wanted to see me.”
However, Deacon didn’t smile or meet his gaze, which triggered a spark of interest. “I need you to take a security vehicle and retrieve a prisoner.”
“Can do, but issues within the cities are normally handled by your lieutenants.”
Deacon rose and strode toward the fireplace. “This prisoner is coming from outside my territory and being brought here to Black Haven.”
“Outside—” Breslin sorted through his knowledge of shifter laws and interterritorial scenarios for a reason to bring a non-clan prisoner to Black Haven. “A tribunal?”
Deacon turned back, holding his gaze steadily. “Exactly.”
Driving meant it was close, ruling out Alarico’s territory in South America and likely Whitman’s territory along the eastern United States as well. Alpha tribunals only judged interterritory offenses. Then the implication hit him like a thunderbolt. “Who am I retrieving from Gauthier’s territory, and why?”
“The alpha has been assassinated. I need you to bring the accused here. The tribunal is set for the week after next, assuming all the alphas show up on time.”
Poleaxed, Breslin stood stock-still, his mind a blank for the first time in—well, he couldn’t remember when. He took a step toward his alpha, his jaw rigid and his hands fisted. “He was mine. You promised me.”
Lena glanced between them and rose from her place on the couch. “I’ll leave you two to discuss this in private.”
“I promised you justice,” Deacon continued, moving forward, allowing his mate to exit the room behind him.
“It’s too late to extract justice from a dead man.” Rage had taken hold, blood burned in his veins, and Breslin couldn’t control the challenging growl in his voice.
“Justice has many different meanings. Opportunities exist for winning now that didn’t exist with Gauthier alive.”
“He’s gone. He won,” Breslin ground out through his clenched teeth, and he blinked, holding back a shift. A death move if he took on a combative form before his alpha. But his cougar raged, leaving his human side struggling for control.
All this time and effort for nothing, and he had been so close.
Unable to focus on anything in front of him as red washed across his vision, he debated whether death by his own alpha was a proper end to his fury. A wave of power slammed against him, invisible iron bands tightening around his lungs.
“You’ve inflicted a great deal of damage to his financial holdings.” Deacon said with a hard edge to his voice, his eyes glinting dark gold. “Cracked the bedrock of his clan’s well-being. Those acts have further-reaching consequences than justice.”
“You told me the impact to his clan didn’t matter.” Breslin choked through the constriction his alpha pressed around his throat. He was dishonoring his oath to Deacon, and he knew it. But he couldn’t contain the rising chaos inside him. He felt a visceral kinship with Trevor all of a sudden. But embracing the recklessness of a four-year-old wouldn’t help control his temper.
Deacon moved to his desk and shifted through a large stack of files before he looked up. “I know I sanctioned your actions. There were few enough of Gauthier’s clan at the time. Knowing him as we do now, I suspect he would have sacrificed every single member before he even considered defeat.”
“The plan was to destroy him,” Breslin ground out as he narrowed his eyes, scouring Deacon’s face for some sign of what he was thinking. The powerful hold on him hadn’t increased, but it also wasn’t loosening. He could feel the ripples like tiny blade points along his skin. Breslin didn’t know what was going through Deacon’s mind, though he didn’t like the dark thoughts that were going through his own.
His alpha wouldn’t betray him. He believed in that above all else. Deacon promised him in this very room that Breslin would someday make Gauthier accountable. That in doing so, Breslin no longer needed to use his assassin skills to punish the man who had murdered his family.
Leaning against his desk, Deacon appeared to be evaluating him as well. “I didn’t stand in the way of your efforts, if that’s what you’re thinking. But you’re aware that you aren’t the only one whose life was ruined by Gauthier’s actions.”
What? Maybe true, yet he’d always felt Deacon supported his cause before all others. Now it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“We had an agreement. And unless you can bring him back—” Breslin pushed through the power, barely making headway. Pure stubbornness drove him as step by staggered step, he moved dangerously close to Deacon. Despite the sizzle of alpha power whipping around the room, he didn’t back down. Deacon’s eyes turned a threatening shade of bloodred, and still Breslin’s cat snarled for release.
“Consider your next words carefully.” Deacon’s voice came out in a harsh rumble, the vibration rippling against Breslin’s eardrums. “You swore an oath to me. Does your word mean nothing?”
Breslin tried to breathe through the constriction deepening around his chest. Deacon hadn’t moved, and his power squeezed as if Breslin were no more than a doughy dinner roll. He’d likely sport bruises, but his devastation from the goal lost so close within his reach unhinged rational thought. However, the pain and lack of oxygen dampened his haze of rage.
Then the alpha power pulled back.
Gulping air into his lungs, he chose the sanest option and dropped to one knee. He bowed his head and spoke the only truth that had ever existed for him—in so many empty ways. “My oath is the one thing I have left.”
The alpha power dissipated without a trace. Comfort Breslin didn’t want buffeted at his soul as Deacon’s palm cupped the back of his head. “I understand your shock, but I still hold to my promise to you. Do what I ask, and I will, yes, help you triumph over Gauthier.”
Unable to fathom the possibility, Breslin didn’t bother to argue. While he’d lived long enough to see unbelievable things, he didn’t care. Alphas commanded powers none of the rest of them did. The bone-numbing pain of failure clouded his ability to see how Deacon could be right, or perhaps alphas weren’t infallible. Deacon couldn’t know everything. Breslin couldn’t fault a man who’d supported him for years even if he was now wrong.
Years of rigorous training without concern for his own needs allowed him to stand. He forced his head up, though he refused to meet Deacon’s gaze.
He was a soldier standing before his alpha as a pawn, not a friend. And because he’d begun his adult life as Deacon’s enforcer, the ghost assassin all clan shifters feared, stepping back into that role was a seamless transition. His role required only obedience to complete a mission, not acceptance or understanding, not a soul.
“Who is the accused?”
Deacon slid out his phone and handed it to him.
Official Request to Alpha Deacon Black from Shifters Unlimited Secretary — Alpha Karndottir found murdered inside his home — Assailant in custody — Clan demands right of Alpha Board Tribunal — Request Alpha Black retrieve and hold assassin Rayven Karndottir until trial.
“None of the people who escaped from his territory ever mentioned he had a daughter,” Breslin said as his gaze snapped back to Deacon. His alpha’s eyes had at least dimmed from red, though the solid black was disconcerting.
“Evidently, she was a well-kept secret,” Deacon said with a dead tone. “She’s being held at their clan stronghold. I received a call from Vendrick. You should expect trouble. Gauthier’s team has a reputation as violent and undisciplined. Their request, Rayven’s delivery to us, and the publicity this will cause are likely part of a larger plan.”
“I’ll look forward to trouble.” It would be a good way to dole out his aggression. He didn’t fool himself it would diminish his fury, but the enforcers had killed his father, allowing Gauthier to steal across the territory border during Deacon’s father’s reign as a
lpha. If he had an opportunity, he’d kill them all, regardless of the consequences.
His cat growled, bucking inside him. Killing a few of the alpha’s guard wouldn’t siphon off any of Breslin’s venom. Instead, he could vent it on the greedy, power-hungry daughter who’d stolen his life mission.
Breslin had never killed a woman, based on a promise he’d made himself decades ago. One he now considered breaking and defensible. In order to have taken out Gauthier, she had to be harder and colder than her old man, making her a worthy opponent. One who didn’t need him to hold back his skills. Ridding the world of Gauthier’s bloodline seemed an appropriate final gesture.
Of course, Deacon would be pissed.
“What will happen after she’s found guilty by the tribunal?”
Deacon’s eyes never wavered from their midnight pitch, and a strange gold sparkled there instead of the red Breslin associated with irritation. His alpha was plotting again. An uneasy shiver slithered down Breslin’s spine.
“She’ll be put to death by alpha challenge.”
“Only by an alpha?” Breslin growled, finding the end of his patience. All these years and the bastard had slipped through his grasp with the help of his demon spawn. He’d gladly offer himself as the executioner. At this point, one Karndottir was as rotten as the next.
“All the alphas. There’s no chance of survival.” Deacon’s brows lifted slowly. “However, first, she needs to be proven guilty.”
Was his alpha plying him with sarcasm? Breslin shrugged and headed for the door. “That won’t take long. Apple. Tree.”
“I don’t think he even saw me on his way out,” Lena said, entering the room again. “I’m not insulted or anything, but he’s the most frighteningly focused person I know, and he looked…zoned out.”
“Be glad he was distracted. It means he’s thinking instead of allowing his creature to take control.” Deacon wasn’t quite certain what to make of Breslin’s emotional state. He’d anticipated a violent surge. Instead, the shock of Gauthier’s death had broken through the ice Breslin kept around his emotions of late, resulting in close to a total meltdown. He’d need a little time for what was happening to sink in. The fact that a Karndottir heir existed might prove a godsend. With any luck, the cold logic Breslin usually wore like a second skin would have a chance to resurface during the long drive to the Karndottir clan stronghold.
“Are you sure he’s the right choice for this pickup? I thought you told me Gauthier killed Breslin’s family in front of him.”
“He’s the best person to send. She will be all he can think about.”
Lena’s brow pulled together. “Not in a good way.”
“Once he brings her back across my border, I can put her into someone else’s custody.”
“Nope.” She tapped him on his chest. “There’s more to your reasoning. Spill it.”
“It’s time Breslin acknowledges that vengeance, not justice, rules him. From the little intelligence I’ve received, Rayven Karndottir has a bull’s-eye on her back. A ticking clock set by her father’s followers. On the slim chance that she’s innocent, she’ll need him. He’s not only one of the cleverest fighters in our clan, he’s also instinctual in battle. But at his core, he is one of the most honorable men I’ve ever known.”
“He appeared anything but clearheaded. That was also a hard blow to have the object of his hate disappear.” Her lips twisted in thought in a way that tempted him, yet the focused look in her eyes held him back. “You suspect she didn’t kill her father?”
“Hosting the tribunal assigns me with the role of finding evidence for the accused. But I doubt whether she’s guilty or not matters as much as what is really going on in the Karndottir clan. Another alpha will see this as an opportunity.”
Lena’s eyes widened for a moment. “That sounds a bit Machiavellian for this day and age.”
“Nothing’s more primal than men and women with great power and the opportunity to possess more.” Deacon frowned and then ran a finger across her lower lip. “I have no designs on the Karndottir territory.”
“Never thought you did,” she said with a hint of laughter. “So, back to Breslin.”
“If someone attempts to kill Rayven before she reaches this compound, he will stop them. Right now, he’s convinced himself he wants to be the one to end her life.”
“Not if she’s innocent.” Her muscles tensed beneath his hands as she examined his expression with worry. She’d taken to his team. Whether he wanted it or not, Breslin had fallen beneath her umbrella of protection—making him one of those special people she looked out for personally. Losing any member of their team was not an option. “He could barely restrain his growl. Hate will cloud his judgment.”
“He will bring her here, unharmed.”
“Pretty sure of yourself.” She remained stiff in his arms as he brought her soft body tight against his and tugged playfully on her long braid. “I hope so, for his sake. Have you met her?”
“I didn’t know she existed until I received the tribunal request.” At her scoff, he pulled back to look at her with an incredulous expression. “What? I’m not omniscient.”
But he did have suspicions. The unusual energy he’d felt flow from across the border and the current situation with Rayven set his instincts flaring. However, revealing his thoughts at this point would only muddle both his and Lena’s thinking once they assessed Rayven for guilt or innocence.
Unfortunately, his mate’s rigid stance and crossed arms intimated he wouldn’t get a second more of her attention until he gave a little ground. He’d give her a tidbit. “Gauthier was a bastard. Even Vendrick gave him a wide berth, though he dropped into that territory every now and then to remind him that he wasn’t immortal.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t take Gauthier out.” She tilted her head. “Vendrick would have known about a daughter.”
Good point. Why hadn’t Vendrick told him? He’d had Breslin as his ward and disciple for decades before the cougar submitted to pledge to his alpha, and he obviously hadn’t told him either.
“Will Vendrick be here for the trial?”
Deacon nodded.
Lips pursed and head cocked, she examined him as if she could see into his brain. “The tribunal would be the ideal opportunity for a spy to sneak into your pack. Given Gauthier’s reputation, this will draw a crowd to see what happens.”
“My thought as well. A distraction intended to keep us off guard. Gauthier was more than unpopular. He bedded an untold number of females in his clan in order to produce a son.” He noticed Lena’s nose wrinkle as one eyebrow rose. “Rumors were that Gauthier discarded those who bore him no children and killed all who bore him daughters—and their infants.”
“His pack let him kill his mates?”
“Not mates. Breeders,” Deacon said with disgust. “He ran his pack like a medieval fiefdom. He took other men’s daughters, wives, and pledged mates.”
“Creating a long line of enemies,” she added with a hard look.
“Silent ones. No one who questioned his actions survived. His clan members earned few collective and no individual rights. Their family units—at least as far as my sources tell me—existed at his whim.”
“Why was no tribunal called for his actions?” Disdain colored her voice. He didn’t blame her.
“Alphas tend to stay out of each other’s business, though I accepted a number of people from his clan into mine.” He reached for her hand, and she held herself just out of reach. “But Breslin’s point is valid. For the clan officially to charge Rayven using the surname Karndottir, they’d have to claim her, legitimizing her as a child of Gauthier’s mate. It would explain why she survived while others died.”
Lena was silent for a moment and then said slowly, “With so many out there with anger like Breslin’s, Rayven Karndottir will likely have more enemies who hate her because of her name.”
“Or she could be a coldhearted killer.” With a harsh exhale, Deacon pulled his mat
e against him and sank back into the couch, considering the options.
“When you claimed me in front of the clan, you and I agreed to an equal exchange. I believe you still know more than you’re telling.” Lena laid her hand on his chest and glanced up with a primal seductive gleam in her eye. He opened his mouth slightly and inhaled, searching for a sign of arousal. He growled with pleasure as the sweet scent of lemon and jasmine teased his taste buds.
Her fingers slipped between the buttons of his shirt and brushed with liquid heat against his skin. “I’m tempted to use my wiles to make you talk.”
“By all means, please torture me. But if I reveal all my secrets, we’ll have no mystery left between us.” This time she melted into his arms with a soft laugh that made parts of his anatomy forget about clan business and tribunals.
“I think our near-death challenge on the mountain—which wasn’t that long ago—is all the excitement we need for a while. I’ll make you a deal. Bring me up to speed on the tribunal details, and I won’t go off and dig up information on my own.”
He smoothed his thumb over her skin until she relaxed in his hold and lifted her fingers for a kiss. “Remind me why I didn’t choose a docile mate.”
“Because you need a strong woman at your side and would have been bored to tears.”
“True.” He kissed the top of her head and breathed her scent deep into his lungs.
A perfunctory knock at the door saved him from more questions. To be fair, he had too many questions himself. Ones he needed help from his allies to answer. “Come in.”
He held Lena as Shanae Philmont popped her head inside.
“Alarico is waiting for you to call him. Whitman is scheduled to call you at two this afternoon. Alpha Ping has confirmed a private meeting with you. She and her mate land six days from now.” She wiggled her fingers to fend off his question. “She doesn’t trust having the conversation over the phone, so she’s arriving early.”
With a nod, he retrieved his cell phone and waited for the closing door. Then he pressed a kiss to Lena’s temple. “First, let’s see what our allies can add to clear up this mess.”