8. Nice Try
1353 Words
I thought the Moon Conference would be neutral ground.
That was the point of holding it in Golden Pine territory. No Alpha could claim the room as his own. No pack could bring more than six guards past the outer gate. Every agreement, dispute, and territorial request was brought before witnesses from the northern council.
In theory, that made everyone polite. In practice, it made everyone better dressed while they lied.
Harlow wanted to come with me, but I needed her near the cottage in case anyone from Cedar Moon started asking too many questions. Lily was still in Moonridge. Still safe. Still hidden under Kano’s name.
That mattered more than having someone beside me.
Golden Pine’s conference hall stood at the edge of a frozen lake, all pale stone, dark glass, and carved pine pillars. Banners from the northern packs hung above the entrance. Cedar Moon’s silver wolf snapped in the wind beside Golden Pine’s gold tree.
I stopped before I reached the steps. Reporters crowded the entrance.
Not council recorders. Real reporters. Pack society pages. Bloodline gossip boards. Every wolf with a camera and a hunger for scandal seemed to have found the same doorway.
At the center of them stood Mona Cole.
She was dressed in white. Of course she was.
Her hand rested lightly on Onyx’s arm while reporters called her the Luna of Cedar Moon. She did not correct them. Onyx did not either. He stood beside her in a black coat with two warriors behind him and Soren at his left shoulder.
Seven years.
Seven years of secret doors, private rooms, and a marriage certificate locked away from the pack he now led. Seven years of no Luna mark. No public title. No escort. No hand at my back when wolves looked too long or whispered too loudly.
Mona got it all.
A reporter raised her camera. “Lady Mona, will you attend the council dinner beside Alpha Onyx tonight?”
Mona leaned closer to him. “That depends on what Alpha Onyx allows. I am still recovering.”
Onyx placed his hand over hers. “She will not be pushed beyond what is safe.”
The cameras caught that. They caught everything he never gave me.
I moved toward the side entrance. Selena spotted me first because spite gave that girl better instincts than training ever could. She whispered to Soren. Soren looked over. Onyx followed a moment later.
He excused himself from the reporters and crossed toward me with Soren close behind. Mona stayed where she was, one hand still posed over her stomach for sympathy and attention.
Onyx stopped in front of me. “You should have stayed home.”
“I received an invitation.”
“You came here to embarrass me again?”
I looked past him to Mona’s white coat, his guards, and the cameras waiting for any sign of blood. “You seem busy doing that yourself.”
Soren stepped forward. “You need to learn some respect.”
I adjusted the strap of my bag. “Drink less before noon, and I might consider listening to you about respect.”
His face turned red.
Onyx’s wolf flashed amber through his eyes. “Enough.”
The crowd shifted behind me. Someone bumped my shoulder. Another wolf pressed too close. Reporters surged toward the doors when a council official appeared on the stairs. The movement shoved me sideways toward the stone rail.
I caught the edge with one hand. Onyx moved on instinct. He grabbed my wrist before I hit the rail.
For one second, the bond snapped tight. He steadied me before either of us chose it.
“Onyx?” Mona’s soft call floated from the steps.
He let go. Immediately.
Selena appeared, smiling like she had won something. “Nice try.”
I straightened my coat. “If I wanted attention from your brother, I would apparently need to arrive pregnant and confused about the father.”
Selena’s smile vanished. A few reporters turned. I walked toward the side entrance before Onyx could decide whether to punish me in front of them.
I was almost there when the air changed. A sharp tremor brushed the edge of my Spiritwalker sense. Panic, swelling, a small mind folding inward too fast.
A little girl near the far column clutched her throat.
Her mother crouched in front of her, trying to lift her chin. “Nia? Nia, breathe.”
The child’s lips were already turning blue.
I ran.
Mona stepped forward too, slower, careful enough for the cameras to follow. The reporters parted for her. One of Onyx’s guards moved to clear a path around Mona, blocking me with one arm. “There is already a doctor here.”
I tried to move around him. “She is in anaphylactic shock.”
The guard shoved me back. “Stay behind the line.”
The little girl collapsed into her mother’s lap.
I pushed forward again. The guard caught my shoulder and forced me back a second time. “Move.”
He ignored me.
My wolf crossed into my eyes. I felt her surging forward, ready to fight this guard if needed.
I let my eyes stay her bright teal as I stepped into his space. “Move, or I will drop you and bill the Alpha for the time.”
He moved once my eyes started lighting up his face.
I hit my knees beside the child. The mother grabbed my sleeve. She was shaking too hard to speak. Mona hovered on the other side, useless but visible. The cameras loved visible.
I pressed two fingers to the child’s neck and found the pulse stuttering beneath swollen tissue. No injection. No airway kit. No time.
So I used the gift everyone treated like pack property when it served them and witchcraft when it frightened them. I opened the Spiritwalker link.
The child’s mind was small, bright, and terrified. Her awareness was shrinking into a tight place, like a door closing. I pushed through the first layer gently because children fought panic harder when forced. The airway swelling raged around her body, but the mind could still be steadied. A body in terror wasted oxygen faster.
“Easy, little wolf.” I pressed my palm against the side of her neck and gave her fading awareness one clear command. “Breathe toward me.”
Her body jerked.
I held the link for three more seconds, just long enough to keep her mind from slipping under while her lungs fought for air. The child gasped once. Twice. The second breath came ragged, but alive.
The mother clutched her daughter to her and cried into her hair.
Mona placed one hand over her own stomach and stepped closer to the cameras. Soren’s heavy shape moved into my peripheral view. “Lady Mona’s treatment must have taken effect.”
I almost laughed. Of course.
The crowd turned toward Mona. Cameras flashed. Someone thanked her. Someone else praised her compassion. Mona looked down and accepted it.
I stayed on my knees and checked the child’s pulse again. Stable enough to transport. The mother looked at me over her daughter’s head. “Thank you.”
I pulled the child’s loose shoe back onto her foot and fixed the crooked strap because panic made people forget small things, and children woke scared when something felt wrong. “She needs a medical room now. Tell them airway edema, unknown trigger, Spirit-link stabilization only. No sedatives unless her breathing drops again.”
The mother stared at my hands on the shoe. “Have you had a child too? You handle children better than I do.”
I froze. Onyx was twenty feet away.
The bond changed, not with desire this time. With attention. Curiousity. Tracking.
I released the strap and stood. “No.”
I turned away before my face could betray what my scent still hid.
Behind me, Onyx did not move, but I felt him follow me through the bond. After seven years, I knew the difference between a man looking at me and an Alpha starting to hunt.
- Writer
