The Luna's Vow

Chapter 13. Battening the Hatches

"Blake, we must summon an emergency meeting of the Council," I said the very second that Blake, Harold, and I locked ourselves in the boardroom.

Blake called it containment. He hushed us while we stalked through the Olympian, and even when Mie set up coffee, throwing curious glances at our drenched, dirty figures. She left with the deepest frown to ever mar her pretty face, and I couldn't blame her.

After crushing through the wilderness on Scarlett's island, then making a straight line to Grauberg from the coast—because Blake decreed we didn't have a minute to lose on nonsense like rental cars, humans' winding roads and changing into dry clothes—even a werewolf's stamina hit its limit. So, we weren't doing a good job of hiding our feelings. Harold slumped in a chair, looking like he'd lost another twenty pounds since this morning. Even more alarmingly, Dad hadn't made a quip in three hours. A grave concern was palpable in our silence and stretched smiles.

Despite the disturbing realization that I could kill right now to get into the soaker tub, I agreed with Blake.

The less other wolves knew about Scarlett's heinous plan, the better—until we spoke to the Council. Which should be as soon as possible. Hence, I said what I said.

"Celeste, that's a fair suggestion, yet we must choose our timing carefully."

Dad stirred, but didn't scoff. Either his years were catching up to him, or he was actually considering what Blake had to say.

Blake paced, his hands clasped behind his back. "One, Scarlett knows Steinar escaped with us."

"I'd take a bow, but I'm not getting up," Steinar groaned.

"Since he is what he is, there's two. She knows that he's betrayed her." Steinar groaned louder, and Blake slanted a stern glance at him. "No offense."

In my experience, nobody said no offense unless they meant to insult you—and I had vast experience in both humans and werewolves trying to snub me. I was very sensitive to it.

Dad, apparently, wasn't. He waved away Blake's no-offense-thing. "None taken, Son."

"Don't call me that."

"Why, because it is not the werewolves' way?" Dad developed a special smile for Blake, so magnanimous it was border-line condescending. "Just like marriage?"

Harold rubbed his temples. "Do you want me to alert the Council while you sort out your family feud?"

"No. You least of all," Blake snapped. "What do you think will happen if we call the Council and report our findings?"

"They'll order us to squash Scarlett in her lair for damage control!" I cried out.

Blake pursed his lips. After the pause lasted a good minute, doubts stirred in my heart. I only had a year of dealings with the Council, and even then, I paid far more attention to the local politics within our pack.

"They...they won't?"

"Not on the say-so of the youngest and Gamma-bred Alpha of the smallest pack in North America. Or his stray-to-Luna mate. Or a disgraced Beta who had mated Epsilon Scarlett previously," Dad said.

"What the hay?"

I wore the derogatory label of stray with pride, and maybe the Council was conservative enough to have issues with that. Fine.

Maybe Harold wasn't the most reliable witness where Scarlett's villainy was concerned, but, but, but...

"How could anyone doubt Blake's word?"