Page 35 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
I should have been more careful. It’s probably better for everyone if I focus solely on my mission from now on, especially as I head into tonight’s feast. I’m supposed to be the one observing behavior, not causing suspicion.
The Great Hall’s massive stone fireplace illuminates the walls, where ancient pack symbols hang on dark wood panels. Ceremonial daggers and polished silver goblets catch the light from iron chandeliers looming overhead, dripping wax from dozens of candles onto the stone floor.
Alpha Xander sits at the head of the table with Thea and Lady Gemma on either side of him. Stationed around the rest of the long table are Elder Stasio, the lightbulb twins, Rhiannon, members of the Pack Council (whose faces I still struggle to put names to) and all their mates, plus Akila, Conan, Branson, and Jayme, as well as me. The clinking of silverware against fancy gilded plates punctuates the hushed conversations around us.
Dinner truly is a feast, even more so than usual for the special occasion. Steaming platters line the long oak table. Roasted venison glistens with herb butter and strange forest plants I don’t recognize. The earthy aroma of wild mushrooms, sage, and rosemary mingles with the rich scent of meat, filling the hall.I note a lot more vegetation than usual, which is no doubt a special request from our guests.
Right now, the conversation is formal. Both Xander and Stasio seem relaxed as they exchange light banter about Lycan and Shaman life. I was nervous about my role as the official Human Lie Detector, but I find that watching Stasio is a lot like watching paint dry. It’s not just his stiffness that’s boring, but how easy he is to read. His fingers tap the same rhythm repeatedly on the table, and I resist the urge to turn it into a rap song just to entertain myself.
Though there does seem to be one inevitable question on his mind that keeps me on edge. He consistently throws glances my way from across the table. It’s only a matter of time before he inquires about me. I’ll bet money he’s already talked about me with his children.
“So,” Stasio says after Thea finishes sharing a short anecdote about her pregnancy, “Tell me more about your assistant. Ethan, is it?”
Thea stiffens, but shows no other sign of discomfort. “I’m not sure what there is for me to tell, but feel free to ask your questions of him directly. Hecanspeak.”
Yikes.There’s the girl I know. Xander shoots her a subtle warning look. “I’m sure they realize that,” he quips lightly.
“It’s fine,” Stasio says with the first smile I’ve seen on him all evening. “Forgive me, Luna Thea. I meant no disrespect. I only asked you because there was no way for me to know, for certain, what his faculties may be. I can see he is not Lycan, nor does he seem to be anything else that I’ve ever encountered. To know if he is capable of speech when he has said nothing thus far . . . I simply find him to be . . . curious.”
I’d like to be insulted by that. I mean, it certainly sounds like he meant to insult me, but he does have a point. I haven’t saidone word in front of them since they got here. I clear my throat. “Curious.That’s an interesting choice of words.”
“And yet it is appropriate.” Stasio’s face softens into a slightly broader smile. “You inhabit the form of man, yet you do not radiate an aura of Lycan or Fae, nor even Witch or Shaman.”
Holden leans back in his chair. “Sister thinks you are Phoenix.” He sounds bored, but I believe that’s just the natural cadence of his voice.
What the fuck makes her think I’m a phoenix?
Haron’s bronzed face flushes pink. “I only said that youcouldbe Phoenix,” she says, her voice high like a silver bell. “The only one we know of is the Alpha King’s Luna, and we’ve only heard stories of her. We haven’t had the opportunity to be in her presence, you see.”
“And so,” Stasio says. “We are curious. Perhaps you can enlighten us.”
Welp.It was a question that was bound to be asked, I guess. I look over at Xander, who gives me an approving nod. “I’m human. From the Outer Lands.”
Stasio’s smile drops, Holden nearly chokes on his wine, and Haron covers her mouth in shock.
“A . . .human?” Stasio’s nearly black eyes darken even more.
“He is here with the Alpha King’s permission,” Xander says. “He and Luna Thea were previously acquainted, as she is originally from the Outer Lands herself. When he came to us, she insisted that he stay, and so I saw to it that he could.”
“How... accommodating.” Holden pitches his voice just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Our traditions teach that humans lack the capacity to truly understand our ways. Isn’t that why they stay in the Outer Lands?”
One of the older Council members nods in agreement. “Indeed. The ancient texts speak of humans’ fragile minds thatwould break under the burdens of our world. It is a kindness to shield them from what they cannot comprehend.”
I catch Rhiannon’s eyes across the table. She heard it too — the not-so-thinly veiled insult wrapped in benevolent concern. Her expression remains perfectly neutral, however, without a flicker of defensiveness or disagreement crossing her features. Somehow, her easy silence stings more than their words, but I guess I can’t expect her to speak up for me during such an important — and tense — meeting. I force my expression to remain pleasant.
Holden’s head turns toward Xander. “So, you allowed a human to stay just because your mate told you to?”
“Luna Thea is mine,” Xander says. His voice is free of malice and offense, but I can see the muscles in his jaw tighten. “But I am hers as well. I am honor-bound to provide her with whatever she may need, and the same goes for her. My Luna was lonely, being so far from everything and everyone she knew. His presence gives her peace of mind. Anyone should want that for their mate.”
Stasio throws Holden a hard look, which makes him shrink back. Then, he reaches leisurely for his wine glass to take a drink. “Don’t be rude, Holden. Their ways are not ours.”
“But you are notjusthuman,” Haron says to me as her brother sulks next to her. “Surely you are a distant hybrid of some sort. Have you a great-grandmother with Witch’s blood, perhaps?”
She leans in toward me, her big brown eyes sparkling as she twirls a tendril of white hair in one elegantly long finger. I’m mildly alarmed by her interest in me, but I’m not in any position to be rude.
“Not that I’m aware of,” I say. “My mother died in my teens, and she was as ordinary a human as could be. My father...” I pause, offering a wry smile. “Well, I’m pretty sure he washuman, but considering what a huge jerk he was, he might’ve been part devil. The jury’s still out on that one.”
“You poor thing!” Haron leans in a little more, her face full of manufactured concern. “I would love to hear about your life before you came here,” she says, batting her eyelashes way more than necessary. “Perhaps after dinner, we can walk around the garden and talk more?”
