The Alpha's Rebel

Chapter 41

Maddox is sitting at his desk, and I'm sitting across from him. The phone is ringing, and we're both anxiously waiting for the High Council to answer.

The High Council is a group of nine immortal werewolves who are the highest up werewolf authority in our world. The Wild Fangs haven't been seen or heard from in centuries, though they're not exempt from the annual mate ball. If they've never made an appearance, it means the moon goddess is on their side and creating their mate pairings only with other pack members.

I stare at Maddox as we wait for the call to be answered. His dirty blonde hair is a disaster, both from how we spent the rest of our morning and him stress-running his fingers through the strands. It's sexy as hell. His lips are pinched together, ever-so-slightly curved downwards in the smallest of frowns. I want to kiss it off him.

"You can't look at me like that, Harp."

"Says who?" I taunt, and his lips rise into a small, exasperated smirk.

"Because I can't act on it."

"Says who?" I repeat, and his smirk only grows. My daring smirk transforms into a smile, my love for teasing and taunting my mate taking over. Maddox shakes his head at me.

Someone answers the phone.

"Alpha Maddox." It's not a question of who they are speaking with. The woman's voice is calm, but even over the phone, there's power oozing out with ever syllable. "This is Etta. What can we do for you?"

"Hello, Etta. Thank you for taking my call." Maddox's tone has taken on an uber-professional sound as he speaks, but I hear the barely-there strained undertone. This phone call is either giving us the information we need to protect our pack, or we're back to square one. 

Square one is not an option.

Maddox explains everything that's been going on, from the very first arrow we saw to desperately needing to get in contact with the Wild Fangs or anyone who would know how to help us hide our scents. Etta listens, her power oozing even in her silence.

"Is there anyway you could help us get in contact with the Wild Fangs?" Maddox finishes.

Etta is quiet for a few eternal moments, and it's unbearable. It feels like she's gearing up to give us bad news, and I really don't want to hear it. Like I said, square one is not an option, and bad news sends us back to square one. 

Eventually, Etta says, "I can't give you any information about the Wild Fangs. It would break the guidelines we have with their pack." My heart breaks. It was exactly what I didn't want to hear, and not only do I see Maddox's face fall, I feel his defeat through the mate bond as if it were my own. Another rock is tied to our ankles, bringing us down that much faster.

I lean forward with my elbows on the desk and bury my face in my hands. My wild hair falls into a curtain around me. What the fuck do we do now?

Etta takes a breath through the phone, and then she says, "What I can do is reach out to their alpha with your issue, and if they willing to help, they can get into contact with you." My head flies up from my hands, and I lock gazes with Maddox. His eyes widen, and matching smiles appear on our faces.

This is the best news we've heard in weeks.

~~~~

My alarm goes off at six A.M. the next morning. The shrill sound does nothing but annoy me, and I bury my head under my pillow to block out the sound.

"Harp," Maddox grumbles, his voice cracking. I don't say anything, only pull the pillow tighter around my ears to further block the sound. Maddox grumbles some incoherent curses, immediately realizing I will not be doing anything. He reaches over my body, his own crushing mine, and the alarm stops. Maddox doesn't move.