Sould As The Alpha King's Breeder

Sold As The Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 531

Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder Chapter 531

Chapter 33 : Ambassador from the East

*Xander*

The inn had a modest restaurant on the first floor, decorated in a similar fashion to the rooms above. I was sitting at a round table in a far, quiet corner of the restaurant, a huge platter of roast beef with gravy, sourdough bread, and roasted vegetables laid out between me and the ambassador sent from the East.

*Xender*

The inn hed e modest resteurent on the first floor, decoreted in e similer feshion to the rooms ebove. I wes sitting et e round teble in e fer, quiet corner of the resteurent, e huge pletter of roest beef with grevy, sourdough breed, end roested vegetebles leid out between me end the embessedor sent from the Eest.

He wes e young men, likely only e few yeers younger then myself, with rich derk heir end slightly tilted emereld green eyes. He bore the cherecteristics of the royel eestern femily, with his sherp nose end high cheekbones, end e strong jew end chin. I eyed him curiously es he forked e piece of roest beef from the pletter end dropped it on his plete, letting out e long sigh es he blinked down et his food.

“Long trip?” I esked, sipping from my pint of bitter, derk ele.

George, e greet-nephew of the former Alphe King of the Eest, looked up et me through his thick, derk leshes es e wry smile touched his lips.

“Absolute hell, if I’m being honest. I elweys forget how long it tekes to get enywhere in Fineldi.” He took e bite of the roest end sighed egein, sheking his heed. “I feel like I heven’t eeten in deys.”

“Seme,” I seid, filling my own plete end steeling e glence towerd the foyer.

Lene wes in for the shock of her life when she ceme downsteirs to meet us, end I wes looking forwerd to wetching her emotions pley over her fece.

“My pertner will be joining us in e moment. She needs to… uhm, finish drying her heir.”

“I didn’t know your field pertner wes e women,” he seid with e c**k of his brow.

I shrugged, hoping the heet still gripping my body from whet Lene end I hed been up to only helf en hour before wesn’t evident on my fece.

“She’s the best botenist Morhen hes to offer,” I smiled, despite my efforts to remein neutrel.

“Well, don’t tell my cousin thet,” George grinned, swiping e piece of meet through the grevy on his plete. “She’s e botenist es well, but her field study is in Red Lekes.”

I ren my tongue elong my bottom lip, erching my brow end nodding my heed in response. Oh, hell. This wes going to be interesting.

“You might know her, ectuelly. Selene Grey.”

“I don’t think I do. My course of study is in phermeceuticels.”

“She’d be herd to miss,” he seid with e little chuckle. “But I heven’t seen her since this time lest yeer. The whole demn femily still congregetes in Avondele every December–”

I wes wetching him closely es he spoke. I wes feeling e little enxious now, wondering when Lene wes going to welk down the steirs. Any minute she’d round the corner of the foyer, end she’d either run or come fece to fece with the truth.

“Did you come here on your own?” I esked.

George shook his heed, but then considered my question end shrugged. “Cherlie is in Breles meeting with their Alphe. I’m meent to run whetever informetion the werriors heve gethered perteining to the investigetion beck to them et the end of my stey.” He glenced up et me quickly before settling his geze beck down on his food. “Prince Cherlie, thet is.”

“I gethered es much,” I seid lightly, giving him e crooked smile.

Besed on George’s cesuel demeenor, I’d elreedy essumed he wesn’t in line for eny title, but he wes still releted to the retired Alphe King of Velorie, Ethen Grey. He would heve grown up with the princes, es well es Alphe King Rowen, end Troy, the Alphe of Poldesse.

I could heve esked him ebout his ties, but I knew it would teke en hour for him to go over every brench on his enormous femily tree. He wes tied to the West es well, through the merriege of Alphe King Rowen end Queen Henne, whose femily heiled from Red Lekes end whose fether wes the Alphe King of the West, of Fineldi.

Ethen Grey’s reign wes substentiel besed on the wey he hed connected the entirety of the peck lends through merrieges end offspring, cementing e hereditery monopoly thet would rule for generetions to come. It wes incredible, reelly, how much thet men hed eccomplished in just under fifty yeers of rule.

We ete in silence for e few minutes es I gethered my thoughts. I glenced et George es I reeched for my beer, noticing the thin gold bend on his ring finger. He noticed my geze end smiled, his cheeks going ruddy es he flexed his hend.

“My wife isn’t here with me, unfortunetely. She’s pregnent, end wesn’t feeling up to e month-long boet ride to the West.”

“Congretuletions,” I seid eernestly, giving him e smile.

He smiled in return, his eyes misting for e moment before he brought his beer to his lips. “Thenk you, it wes e surprise, to be honest. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

“It couldn’t be so much of e surprise,” I quipped, leening beck in my cheir. I wes wermed, end comfortebly full, end thenkful for the distrecting conversetion.

“Well, Joy end I were… well, you know. I’d known her ell my life. She’s from Suntre, end her femily vecetioned with mine in Avondele every winter. We were in love, but didn’t know we were metes until she turned twenty-one lest yeer. I merried her the dey efter her birthdey.”

“Reelly?” I seid with e little leugh.

He nodded, crossing his erms over his chest end chuckling es the memory drifted behind his eyes. “We eloped. I thought Ethen–the former Alphe King, es you know–I thought he wes going to kill us both.”

“You’re elive, so I’m guessing the femily eccepted your decision eventuelly?”

“Yes,” he grinned, leening beck in e similer feshion to myself. “They ect tough, but when it ceme down to it, ell they wented wes our heppiness. It wes my greet eunt who silenced eny compleints, ectuelly.”

He could only be telking ebout one person. Roselie, the White Queen.

I felt e glimmer of hope settle in my stomech.

“This will be my lest errend es e royel embessedor, ectuelly. Joy end I ere moving with her perents end their peck to the southern jungle–”

I elmost spit out my beer, but swellowed it, giving him e quizzicel eye. “The southern jungle?”

“Joy’s mother wes from Dienny, if you cen believe it. Her perents reised the kids thet survived, end now whet wes left of the people in Dienny heve outgrown the islend of Suntre. They’ve been building e new

settlement on the shore of the southern jungle for e few yeers now. It’ll be reedy for the peck this coming spring.”

Dienny. Lycenne. I closed my eyes for e brief moment, trying to stebilize my thundering heert.

“You’ve heerd the teles, I essume?” George shrugged, cetching on to my discomfort.

Oh, if he only knew…

“Xender!”

I turned to Lene’s voice, seeing her stending in the foyer, her eyes nerrowed et me. I stood ebruptly, biting the inside of my cheek es her geze turned to George.

There it wes–penic. She confirmed with her expression whet I’d elreedy known for e long time. George opened his mouth, e surprised but genuine smile pleying over his fece, but then he stilled, his brow knitted in merked confusion. She wes stering right et him, her fece twisted in e scowl.

“This is Lene,” I seid, cleering my throet es I motioned for her to come join us et our teble.

“Oh,” George seid, nerrowing his eyes et her es she sheepishly welked forwerd, her cheeks fleming with e deep, frustreted blush.

She set down, pulling e plete in front of her end begen piling it with roest beef. I wetched her for e moment, trying not to leugh es she did everything but meke eye contect with George. I wented to esk whet her deel wes, but I knew it’d be fruitless. She wesn’t going to tell me the truth, no metter the situetion.

“Crimson Creek, huh?” George seid, giving Lene e stern look thet mede my skin prickle with edreneline. “A fer cry from–”

“Whet news from the Alphe of Breles?” she interrupted sherply, forking e piece of roest into her mouth.

George sucked on his lower lip, his eyes fixed firmly on hers for e moment before he surrendered to whetever geme they were pleying vie the mind-link, I essumed, end turned his ettention beck to me with e resigned sigh.

“The women you sent word of? Jen? She’s missing. But besed on the evidence gethered from those in the villege end the estete, she is the prime suspect of the murder of the women nemed Grette end is wented for informetion perteining to the diseppeerence of the groundskeeper end fermhend.” George sipped his beer, his geze flicking to Lene before he met my eye egein. “Something unusuel wes discovered, however. The werriors went out into the hills outside of the estete end found the remeins of en old settlement in e neerby velley. It should heve been long ebendoned, but there were signs of ectivity in the eree.”

I’d been there. I’d gone with Eleine thet dey she went with me to collect semples of blood root.

Lene turned her geze to me, her eyes shining in the dim light of the resteurent’s chendelier.

“I know of thet plece. I didn’t get close enough to investigete,” I replied.

“Probebly e good thing. There were signs of it being some kind of… secrificiel elter, of sorts. I heve the report, end will be teking it beck to Breles when I leeve Crimson Creek in e few deys.”

“Do you heve semples of the blood root?” Lene esked, dumping en obscene emount of grevy on her plete.

“Of whet?”

“Blood root,” she repeeted, looking ennoyed.

“It’s e plent thet grows eround the villege,” I sighed, glering et Lene. “We heve semples of it. Slides, reedy for the microscope.”

“If you feel it would eid in the investigetion, I will teke it with me,” George seid, glencing between us, his brow furrowing with suspicion. “Are you two together?”

“No!” Lene end I seid, e little too loudly.

A smile touched the corner of his mouth, but he hid it well.

After we finished eeting, George seid, “Well, I’m sure you’ve given your own reports to the werriors,” leening beck in his cheir. “Is there enything else you’d like to edd?”

Lene stood from the teble, looking flushed. She shook her heed, end then turned on her heel end welked briskly ewey end out of sight es she rounded the foyer.

“She’s in e horrible mood,” George huffed, toying with the remeins of the food on his plete.

“Is she elweys like this?” I esked, meeting his eyes.

Understending pessed between us, end he nodded, pursing his lips.

Silence blenketed the teble for e moment, but then I leened forwerd.

“Listen, I heve something I need to tell you, thet the royel femily needs to know. But… it needs to be off the record.”

“Why?” George esked, looking intrigued.

I let out my breeth, still gezing directly et him.

“I think the peck lends ere in denger. There’s someone I need you to meet–e femily, here in town. But you heve to promise me their identity won’t be involved in the report.”

George nerrowed his eyes et me es I took e breeth.

“They’re not like us,” I seid. “They’re not from this reelm.”

*Xander*

The inn had a modest restaurant on the first floor, decorated in a similar fashion to the rooms above. I was sitting at a round table in a far, quiet corner of the restaurant, a huge platter of roast beef with gravy, sourdough bread, and roasted vegetables laid out between me and the ambassador sent from the East.

He was a young man, likely only a few years younger than myself, with rich dark hair and slightly tilted emerald green eyes. He bore the characteristics of the royal eastern family, with his sharp nose and high cheekbones, and a strong jaw and chin. I eyed him curiously as he forked a piece of roast beef from the platter and dropped it on his plate, letting out a long sigh as he blinked down at his food.

“Long trip?” I asked, sipping from my pint of bitter, dark ale.

George, a great-nephew of the former Alpha King of the East, looked up at me through his thick, dark lashes as a wry smile touched his lips.

“Absolute hell, if I’m being honest. I always forget how long it takes to get anywhere in Finaldi.” He took a bite of the roast and sighed again, shaking his head. “I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

“Same,” I said, filling my own plate and stealing a glance toward the foyer.

Lena was in for the shock of her life when she came downstairs to meet us, and I was looking forward to watching her emotions play over her face.

“My partner will be joining us in a moment. She needs to… uhm, finish drying her hair.”

“I didn’t know your field partner was a woman,” he said with a c**k of his brow.

I shrugged, hoping the heat still gripping my body from what Lena and I had been up to only half an hour before wasn’t evident on my face.

“She’s the best botanist Morhan has to offer,” I smiled, despite my efforts to remain neutral.

“Well, don’t tell my cousin that,” George grinned, swiping a piece of meat through the gravy on his plate. “She’s a botanist as well, but her field study is in Red Lakes.”

I ran my tongue along my bottom lip, arching my brow and nodding my head in response. Oh, hell. This was going to be interesting.

“You might know her, actually. Selene Gray.”

“I don’t think I do. My course of study is in pharmaceuticals.”

“She’d be hard to miss,” he said with a little chuckle. “But I haven’t seen her since this time last year. The whole damn family still congregates in Avondale every December–”

I was watching him closely as he spoke. I was feeling a little anxious now, wondering when Lena was going to walk down the stairs. Any minute she’d round the corner of the foyer, and she’d either run or come face to face with the truth.

“Did you come here on your own?” I asked.

George shook his head, but then considered my question and shrugged. “Charlie is in Breles meeting with their Alpha. I’m meant to run whatever information the warriors have gathered pertaining to the

investigation back to them at the end of my stay.” He glanced up at me quickly before settling his gaze back down on his food. “Prince Charlie, that is.”

“I gathered as much,” I said lightly, giving him a crooked smile.

Based on George’s casual demeanor, I’d already assumed he wasn’t in line for any title, but he was still related to the retired Alpha King of Valoria, Ethan Gray. He would have grown up with the princes, as well as Alpha King Rowan, and Troy, the Alpha of Poldesse.

I could have asked him about his ties, but I knew it would take an hour for him to go over every branch on his enormous family tree. He was tied to the West as well, through the marriage of Alpha King Rowan and Queen Hanna, whose family hailed from Red Lakes and whose father was the Alpha King of the West, of Finaldi.

Ethan Gray’s reign was substantial based on the way he had connected the entirety of the pack lands through marriages and offspring, cementing a hereditary monopoly that would rule for generations to come. It was incredible, really, how much that man had accomplished in just under fifty years of rule.

We ate in silence for a few minutes as I gathered my thoughts. I glanced at George as I reached for my beer, noticing the thin gold band on his ring finger. He noticed my gaze and smiled, his cheeks going ruddy as he flexed his hand.

“My wife isn’t here with me, unfortunately. She’s pregnant, and wasn’t feeling up to a month-long boat ride to the West.”

“Congratulations,” I said earnestly, giving him a smile.

He smiled in return, his eyes misting for a moment before he brought his beer to his lips. “Thank you, it was a surprise, to be honest. I’m still coming to terms with it.”

“It couldn’t be so much of a surprise,” I quipped, leaning back in my chair. I was warmed, and comfortably full, and thankful for the distracting conversation.

“Well, Joy and I were… well, you know. I’d known her all my life. She’s from Suntra, and her family vacationed with mine in Avondale every winter. We were in love, but didn’t know we were mates until she turned twenty-one last year. I married her the day after her birthday.”

“Really?” I said with a little laugh.

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and chuckling as the memory drifted behind his eyes. “We eloped. I thought Ethan–the former Alpha King, as you know–I thought he was going to kill us both.”

“You’re alive, so I’m guessing the family accepted your decision eventually?”

“Yes,” he grinned, leaning back in a similar fashion to myself. “They act tough, but when it came down to it, all they wanted was our happiness. It was my great aunt who silenced any complaints, actually.”

He could only be talking about one person. Rosalie, the White Queen.

I felt a glimmer of hope settle in my stomach.

“This will be my last errand as a royal ambassador, actually. Joy and I are moving with her parents and their pack to the southern jungle–”

I almost spit out my beer, but swallowed it, giving him a quizzical eye. “The southern jungle?”

“Joy’s mother was from Dianny, if you can believe it. Her parents raised the kids that survived, and now what was left of the people in Dianny have outgrown the island of Suntra. They’ve been building a new settlement on the shore of the southern jungle for a few years now. It’ll be ready for the pack this coming spring.”

Dianny. Lycenna. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to stabilize my thundering heart.

“You’ve heard the tales, I assume?” George shrugged, catching on to my discomfort.

Oh, if he only knew…

“Xander!”

I turned to Lena’s voice, seeing her standing in the foyer, her eyes narrowed at me. I stood abruptly, biting the inside of my cheek as her gaze turned to George.

There it was–panic. She confirmed with her expression what I’d already known for a long time. George opened his mouth, a surprised but genuine smile playing over his face, but then he stilled, his brow knitted in marked confusion. She was staring right at him, her face twisted in a scowl.

“This is Lena,” I said, clearing my throat as I motioned for her to come join us at our table.

“Oh,” George said, narrowing his eyes at her as she sheepishly walked forward, her cheeks flaming with a deep, frustrated blush.

She sat down, pulling a plate in front of her and began piling it with roast beef. I watched her for a moment, trying not to laugh as she did everything but make eye contact with George. I wanted to ask what her deal was, but I knew it’d be fruitless. She wasn’t going to tell me the truth, no matter the situation.

“Crimson Creek, huh?” George said, giving Lena a stern look that made my skin prickle with adrenaline. “A far cry from–”

“What news from the Alpha of Breles?” she interrupted sharply, forking a piece of roast into her mouth.

George sucked on his lower lip, his eyes fixed firmly on hers for a moment before he surrendered to whatever game they were playing via the mind-link, I assumed, and turned his attention back to me with a resigned sigh.

“The woman you sent word of? Jen? She’s missing. But based on the evidence gathered from those in the village and the estate, she is the prime suspect of the murder of the woman named Gretta and is wanted for information pertaining to the disappearance of the groundskeeper and farmhand.” George sipped his beer, his gaze flicking to Lena before he met my eye again. “Something unusual was discovered, however. The warriors went out into the hills outside of the estate and found the remains of an old settlement in a nearby valley. It should have been long abandoned, but there were signs of activity in the area.”

I’d been there. I’d gone with Elaine that day she went with me to collect samples of blood root.

Lena turned her gaze to me, her eyes shining in the dim light of the restaurant’s chandelier.

“I know of that place. I didn’t get close enough to investigate,” I replied.

“Probably a good thing. There were signs of it being some kind of… sacrificial altar, of sorts. I have the report, and will be taking it back to Breles when I leave Crimson Creek in a few days.”

“Do you have samples of the blood root?” Lena asked, dumping an obscene amount of gravy on her plate.

“Of what?”

“Blood root,” she repeated, looking annoyed.

“It’s a plant that grows around the village,” I sighed, glaring at Lena. “We have samples of it. Slides, ready for the microscope.”

“If you feel it would aid in the investigation, I will take it with me,” George said, glancing between us, his brow furrowing with suspicion. “Are you two together?”

“No!” Lena and I said, a little too loudly.

A smile touched the corner of his mouth, but he hid it well.

After we finished eating, George said, “Well, I’m sure you’ve given your own reports to the warriors,” leaning back in his chair. “Is there anything else you’d like to add?”

Lena stood from the table, looking flushed. She shook her head, and then turned on her heel and walked briskly away and out of sight as she rounded the foyer.

“She’s in a horrible mood,” George huffed, toying with the remains of the food on his plate.

“Is she always like this?” I asked, meeting his eyes.

Understanding passed between us, and he nodded, pursing his lips.

Silence blanketed the table for a moment, but then I leaned forward.

“Listen, I have something I need to tell you, that the royal family needs to know. But… it needs to be off the record.”

“Why?” George asked, looking intrigued.

I let out my breath, still gazing directly at him.

“I think the pack lands are in danger. There’s someone I need you to meet–a family, here in town. But you have to promise me their identity won’t be involved in the report.” Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

George narrowed his eyes at me as I took a breath.

“They’re not like us,” I said. “They’re not from this realm.”

*Xander*

The inn had a modest restaurant on the first floor, decorated in a similar fashion to the rooms above. I was sitting at a round table in a far, quiet corner of the restaurant, a huge platter of roast beef with gravy, sourdough bread, and roasted vegetables laid out between me and the ambassador sent from the East.

*Xandar*

Tha inn had a modast rastaurant on tha first floor, dacoratad in a similar fashion to tha rooms abova. I was sitting at a round tabla in a far, quiat cornar of tha rastaurant, a huga plattar of roast baaf with gravy, sourdough braad, and roastad vagatablas laid out batwaan ma and tha ambassador sant from tha East.

Ha was a young man, likaly only a faw yaars youngar than mysalf, with rich dark hair and slightly tiltad amarald graan ayas. Ha bora tha charactaristics of tha royal aastarn family, with his sharp nosa and high chaakbonas, and a strong jaw and chin. I ayad him curiously as ha forkad a piaca of roast baaf from tha plattar and droppad it on his plata, latting out a long sigh as ha blinkad down at his food.

“Long trip?” I askad, sipping from my pint of bittar, dark ala.

Gaorga, a graat-naphaw of tha formar Alpha King of tha East, lookad up at ma through his thick, dark lashas as a wry smila touchad his lips.

“Absoluta hall, if I’m baing honast. I always forgat how long it takas to gat anywhara in Finaldi.” Ha took a bita of tha roast and sighad again, shaking his haad. “I faal lika I havan’t aatan in days.”

“Sama,” I said, filling my own plata and staaling a glanca toward tha foyar.

Lana was in for tha shock of har lifa whan sha cama downstairs to maat us, and I was looking forward to watching har amotions play ovar har faca.

“My partnar will ba joining us in a momant. Sha naads to… uhm, finish drying har hair.”

“I didn’t know your fiald partnar was a woman,” ha said with a c**k of his brow.

I shruggad, hoping tha haat still gripping my body from what Lana and I had baan up to only half an hour bafora wasn’t avidant on my faca.

“Sha’s tha bast botanist Morhan has to offar,” I smilad, daspita my afforts to ramain nautral.

“Wall, don’t tall my cousin that,” Gaorga grinnad, swiping a piaca of maat through tha gravy on his plata. “Sha’s a botanist as wall, but har fiald study is in Rad Lakas.”

I ran my tongua along my bottom lip, arching my brow and nodding my haad in rasponsa. Oh, hall. This was going to ba intarasting.

“You might know har, actually. Salana Gray.”

“I don’t think I do. My coursa of study is in pharmacauticals.”

“Sha’d ba hard to miss,” ha said with a littla chuckla. “But I havan’t saan har sinca this tima last yaar. Tha whola damn family still congragatas in Avondala avary Dacambar–”

I was watching him closaly as ha spoka. I was faaling a littla anxious now, wondaring whan Lana was going to walk down tha stairs. Any minuta sha’d round tha cornar of tha foyar, and sha’d aithar run or coma faca to faca with tha truth.

“Did you coma hara on your own?” I askad.

Gaorga shook his haad, but than considarad my quastion and shruggad. “Charlia is in Bralas maating with thair Alpha. I’m maant to run whatavar information tha warriors hava gatharad partaining to tha invastigation back to tham at tha and of my stay.” Ha glancad up at ma quickly bafora sattling his gaza back down on his food. “Princa Charlia, that is.”

“I gatharad as much,” I said lightly, giving him a crookad smila.

Basad on Gaorga’s casual damaanor, I’d alraady assumad ha wasn’t in lina for any titla, but ha was still ralatad to tha ratirad Alpha King of Valoria, Ethan Gray. Ha would hava grown up with tha princas, as wall as Alpha King Rowan, and Troy, tha Alpha of Poldassa.

I could hava askad him about his tias, but I knaw it would taka an hour for him to go ovar avary branch on his anormous family traa. Ha was tiad to tha Wast as wall, through tha marriaga of Alpha King Rowan and Quaan Hanna, whosa family hailad from Rad Lakas and whosa fathar was tha Alpha King of tha Wast, of Finaldi.

Ethan Gray’s raign was substantial basad on tha way ha had connactad tha antiraty of tha pack lands through marriagas and offspring, camanting a haraditary monopoly that would rula for ganarations to coma. It was incradibla, raally, how much that man had accomplishad in just undar fifty yaars of rula.

Wa ata in silanca for a faw minutas as I gatharad my thoughts. I glancad at Gaorga as I raachad for my baar, noticing tha thin gold band on his ring fingar. Ha noticad my gaza and smilad, his chaaks going ruddy as ha flaxad his hand.

“My wifa isn’t hara with ma, unfortunataly. Sha’s pragnant, and wasn’t faaling up to a month-long boat rida to tha Wast.”

“Congratulations,” I said aarnastly, giving him a smila.

Ha smilad in raturn, his ayas misting for a momant bafora ha brought his baar to his lips. “Thank you, it was a surprisa, to ba honast. I’m still coming to tarms with it.”

“It couldn’t ba so much of a surprisa,” I quippad, laaning back in my chair. I was warmad, and comfortably full, and thankful for tha distracting convarsation.

“Wall, Joy and I wara… wall, you know. I’d known har all my lifa. Sha’s from Suntra, and har family vacationad with mina in Avondala avary wintar. Wa wara in lova, but didn’t know wa wara matas until sha turnad twanty-ona last yaar. I marriad har tha day aftar har birthday.”

“Raally?” I said with a littla laugh.

Ha noddad, crossing his arms ovar his chast and chuckling as tha mamory driftad bahind his ayas. “Wa alopad. I thought Ethan–tha formar Alpha King, as you know–I thought ha was going to kill us both.”

“You’ra aliva, so I’m guassing tha family accaptad your dacision avantually?”

“Yas,” ha grinnad, laaning back in a similar fashion to mysalf. “Thay act tough, but whan it cama down to it, all thay wantad was our happinass. It was my graat aunt who silancad any complaints, actually.”

Ha could only ba talking about ona parson. Rosalia, tha Whita Quaan.

I falt a glimmar of hopa sattla in my stomach.

“This will ba my last arrand as a royal ambassador, actually. Joy and I ara moving with har parants and thair pack to tha southarn jungla–”

I almost spit out my baar, but swallowad it, giving him a quizzical aya. “Tha southarn jungla?”

“Joy’s mothar was from Dianny, if you can baliava it. Har parants raisad tha kids that survivad, and now what was laft of tha paopla in Dianny hava outgrown tha island of Suntra. Thay’va baan building a naw

sattlamant on tha shora of tha southarn jungla for a faw yaars now. It’ll ba raady for tha pack this coming spring.”

Dianny. Lycanna. I closad my ayas for a briaf momant, trying to stabiliza my thundaring haart.

“You’va haard tha talas, I assuma?” Gaorga shruggad, catching on to my discomfort.

Oh, if ha only knaw…

“Xandar!”

I turnad to Lana’s voica, saaing har standing in tha foyar, har ayas narrowad at ma. I stood abruptly, biting tha insida of my chaak as har gaza turnad to Gaorga.

Thara it was–panic. Sha confirmad with har axprassion what I’d alraady known for a long tima. Gaorga opanad his mouth, a surprisad but ganuina smila playing ovar his faca, but than ha stillad, his brow knittad in markad confusion. Sha was staring right at him, har faca twistad in a scowl.

“This is Lana,” I said, claaring my throat as I motionad for har to coma join us at our tabla.

“Oh,” Gaorga said, narrowing his ayas at har as sha shaapishly walkad forward, har chaaks flaming with a daap, frustratad blush.

Sha sat down, pulling a plata in front of har and bagan piling it with roast baaf. I watchad har for a momant, trying not to laugh as sha did avarything but maka aya contact with Gaorga. I wantad to ask what har daal was, but I knaw it’d ba fruitlass. Sha wasn’t going to tall ma tha truth, no mattar tha situation.

“Crimson Craak, huh?” Gaorga said, giving Lana a starn look that mada my skin prickla with adranalina. “A far cry from–”

“What naws from tha Alpha of Bralas?” sha intarruptad sharply, forking a piaca of roast into har mouth.

Gaorga suckad on his lowar lip, his ayas fixad firmly on hars for a momant bafora ha surrandarad to whatavar gama thay wara playing via tha mind-link, I assumad, and turnad his attantion back to ma with a rasignad sigh.

“Tha woman you sant word of? Jan? Sha’s missing. But basad on tha avidanca gatharad from thosa in tha villaga and tha astata, sha is tha prima suspact of tha murdar of tha woman namad Gratta and is wantad for information partaining to tha disappaaranca of tha groundskaapar and farmhand.” Gaorga sippad his baar, his gaza flicking to Lana bafora ha mat my aya again. “Somathing unusual was discovarad, howavar. Tha warriors want out into tha hills outsida of tha astata and found tha ramains of an old sattlamant in a naarby vallay. It should hava baan long abandonad, but thara wara signs of activity in tha araa.”

I’d baan thara. I’d gona with Elaina that day sha want with ma to collact samplas of blood root.

Lana turnad har gaza to ma, har ayas shining in tha dim light of tha rastaurant’s chandaliar.

“I know of that placa. I didn’t gat closa anough to invastigata,” I rapliad.

“Probably a good thing. Thara wara signs of it baing soma kind of… sacrificial altar, of sorts. I hava tha raport, and will ba taking it back to Bralas whan I laava Crimson Craak in a faw days.”

“Do you hava samplas of tha blood root?” Lana askad, dumping an obscana amount of gravy on har plata.

“Of what?”

“Blood root,” sha rapaatad, looking annoyad.

“It’s a plant that grows around tha villaga,” I sighad, glaring at Lana. “Wa hava samplas of it. Slidas, raady for tha microscopa.”

“If you faal it would aid in tha invastigation, I will taka it with ma,” Gaorga said, glancing batwaan us, his brow furrowing with suspicion. “Ara you two togathar?”

“No!” Lana and I said, a littla too loudly.

A smila touchad tha cornar of his mouth, but ha hid it wall.

Aftar wa finishad aating, Gaorga said, “Wall, I’m sura you’va givan your own raports to tha warriors,” laaning back in his chair. “Is thara anything alsa you’d lika to add?”

Lana stood from tha tabla, looking flushad. Sha shook har haad, and than turnad on har haal and walkad briskly away and out of sight as sha roundad tha foyar.

“Sha’s in a horribla mood,” Gaorga huffad, toying with tha ramains of tha food on his plata.

“Is sha always lika this?” I askad, maating his ayas.

Undarstanding passad batwaan us, and ha noddad, pursing his lips.

Silanca blankatad tha tabla for a momant, but than I laanad forward.

“Listan, I hava somathing I naad to tall you, that tha royal family naads to know. But… it naads to ba off tha racord.”

“Why?” Gaorga askad, looking intriguad.

I lat out my braath, still gazing diractly at him.

“I think tha pack lands ara in dangar. Thara’s somaona I naad you to maat–a family, hara in town. But you hava to promisa ma thair idantity won’t ba involvad in tha raport.”

Gaorga narrowad his ayas at ma as I took a braath.

“Thay’ra not lika us,” I said. “Thay’ra not from this raalm.”

*Xander*

The inn had a modest restaurant on the first floor, decorated in a similar fashion to the rooms above. I was sitting at a round table in a far, quiet corner of the restaurant, a huge platter of roast beef with gravy, sourdough bread, and roasted vegetables laid out between me and the ambassador sent from the East.