The Alpha's Mistress

17

Word Count: 1969

~Onyx

Exhaustion bears on my entire body as I follow Maren into her meeting room.

I've been away from home, from Sienna, for over a week now.

Thankfully, this has been worth it. Maren saw my presence as the threat that it was and offered a deal in exchange for her compliance. It's not ideal, but it's what I need to solidify my Pack borders.

"Well, I suppose this visit of yours was a success," Maren claims, giving me her quintessential smile.

Admittedly, I used to find her quite beautiful. She's only a few years older than me and knows how to command a room. Now I find her features stark and off-putting.

It must be all the years of being slighted by her.

"The covenants of our trade deal will become active within ten days. Until then, I hope you don't cause any trouble." My words are edged with warning.

Our agreement is that she keeps her people out of my territory, and in exchange, I'm allowing her some of my soldiers to station at the other edge of her Pack, right near my enemy.

I garner critical information, more peace and cause some political unrest between two Pack's that aren't mine. I see nothing lost from this exchange.

"Let's hope Zion doesn't see this as an act of war," she sits opposite me across the table.

I've sat here many times, both with my mother and by myself.

Maren has no problem inviting people to her home. She knows the extent of her political immunity and advertises it well. Since we signed papers last night, I had to stay over, although I'm itching to return home.

"The moment one of his people steps foot into my territory, he will learn what I've been preparing just for him over the last few years," I tell her calmly.

Her red-tinted lips curve into a curious smile. "Interesting."

I'm not divulging my plan. I haven't even told my own mother.

Zion and I are not just enemies. Every ounce of my being seethes with hatred at even the mention of his name.

He killed my father.

While at a general peace meeting hosted by Zion, in which all Alpha's at the time were invited to, he slaughtered my father in the middle of the ballroom and had his people crowd around him and clap as he bled out on the floor, gasping for his last breaths.

My mother despises conflict of any kind. She's a peacemaker, a rule follower. She shrunk back and let Zion take his win.

It is up to me to make him pay. And I will, in good time.

"You can tell him that yourself," I taunt.

"What's to say I have any direct line of contact with him?" She feigns innocence.

"I've seen those two emissaries lurking around here. Were they invited, or did they show up at your door, lost and afraid?" I challenge.

She shifts in her seat, having the decency to look a little uncomfortable at the confrontation.

Generally, Maren holds up to even severe scrutiny. She twists her words into beautiful excuses, lacing every sentence with poison.

"I have peaceful connections with every Pack surrounding mine. Being that I'm landlocked, you can understand how necessary that is for me," she replies smoothly.

I don't flinch. "A friend of my enemy is my enemy."

"I'm not sure that's how the saying goes, Alpha." She taps her red nails against the polished wood of the table. "Even so, Zion is not my friend. Neither are you. I remain politically neutral."