Page 294 of Awakened

Then I remember how he dosed me with silver and took Idril’s blood, and anything soft I momentarily felt hardens again.

Gav doesn’t react. He waits patiently for Albertson to open his eyes before asking, “Why would he send you here, with her head?”

“It’s a message. Varenthrall wants his daughter back. He—he needs her back, to continue his… ah… project.”

I stand so fast I have to brace myself on the table and fight the wave of dizziness that washes over me. Once I’m steady, I shoot forward with my enhanced speed and wrap my hand around the Doctor’s neck. I couldn’t prevent my fangs from dropping if I wanted to.

“He will never touch her again, do you hear me? Never. And neither will you. You’ll never take another drop of her blood. You’ll never hurt her again. If you even try, I will send your head back to him in that same box.”

Soren’s suddenly next to me, his eyes shockingly bright in the overhead light. He growls, and I swear I can actually see his Beast pressing against his skin.

“He’ll do that only after I rip your limbs off your body one at a time,” the wolven spits. There’s nothing human about either of us at this moment, two Alphas ready to rip the world apart for our Omega. Nothing in this world could get to her through either of us.

Except a bunch of rocks, apparently.

I growl at the taunting voice in my head and peel my fingers away from the Doctor’s neck. Neither of us steps back until Gavran clears his throat pointedly. Soren turns his glare on Gav, who simply gestures toward our vacated seats, holding Soren’s gaze until he forces himself to look away.

I follow Soren back to our seats, making sure to keep my eyes trained on the traitor Doctor the whole time.

The old man looks like he’s about to piss himself, and the primal part of me wishes he would. He’s nothing more than prey. Prey that took something that wasn’t his to fucking take.

“I understand there are a lot of biological impulses that are hard to control in a situation like this,” Gavran says, addressing Soren and me once we’ve both sat back down. “However, I’d like to point out that this man did request sanctuary, and it’s been formally offered. It is against our Code to harm or kill him unless provoked.”

Vae scoffs. “You allowed him sanctuary?”

“I did,” Gav replies steadily. “Varenthrall isn’t going to react well to his pet scientist running away. Not with how much knowledge and secrets he has. If he comes for Albertson here, that’s an act of war. If he’s stupid enough to start a war on our soil, then we have every legal right to burn him to ash under the Old Laws.”

Vae barks out a short, incredulous laugh. “I hate to break it to you, Gav, but we’re already in the middle of a war. Your declaration’s about six months and a few dozen missing Omegas too late.”

Gavran’s expression doesn’t even flicker. “I’m aware, Vaelenor. But there’s a difference between a shadow war and one we can publicly justify. You may not give a shit about politics or public opinion, but I do. It’s my job to care. It’s always better to have the law on your side when dealing with sadistic psychopaths trying to breed an entire army of super-soldiers from trafficked Omegas.”

“Ah yes,” Vae grumbles, slumping back in his chair. “Nothing says justice for the wronged quite like bureaucratic paperwork.”

Albertson seems to straighten a bit now that it’s obvious he won’t be shredded by fangs. I bare mine at him anyway, making it clear I don’t give a flying fuck about sanctuary.

“If we keep Albertson alive, he’s both a witness and a weapon. We need the information in his mind—” he cuts off, pinning me with a glare that I return. He waits until I reluctantly retract my fangs, folding my arms over my chest petulantly.

I know I’m acting like an asshole; I just don’t give a fuck. I’m so far past giving a fuck I can’t even see it in my rear-view mirror.

“Varenthrall will come for him eventually. When he does, we’ll be ready, and the Council will be forced to recognize the asshole for what he really is.” Gav pushes off the table’s edge and walks confidently back to his seat.

“The council is nothing more than a bunch of old assholes who pretend they have power,” I toss back. “They’re figureheads and nothing more. Most people forget they even exist.”

”Maybe,” he concedes. “But people also forget how dangerous figureheads can be when they decide to prove they’re still relevant. It’s why we all pacify them to make sure their egos stay just inflated enough not to cause us any issues.”

He’s not wrong. The Council of Nine—three Alphas from each Species—was formed as a symbol of unity in the years after the Treaty was established. Instead, they’ve turned into little more than a decrepit circle of assholes who hand their titles down like family heirlooms and spend all their time drinking scotch instead of governing.

They claim to be Keepers of the Old Laws, but the truth is, they’re nothing but figureheads. And somehow, everyone knows it but them. Unfortunately, their names still carry enough weight in certain political circles to cause problems. They’re not feared. They’re not respected. They are, however, listened to, and that makes them potentially dangerous, especially when you’re dealing with inter-Species issues.

Living in Massachusetts, we might answer legally to the American Government, but if we were to outright start a war with the humans, we’d have to answer to the Council. Assuming they put down their booze long enough to give a fuck.

From the other side of the table, the Doctor perks up. “Wait—you’re—you already know? About the breeding? The injections?”

The poor idiot looks so shocked I nearly laugh. What the hell does he think we do here? Work out so we look pretty?

His eyes flick to me, then Soren, then back to me. I can literally see his mind working, and I tense as he starts putting the pieces together.

Then it clicks.