Mellona
I was the most precious caged bird Gideon Thorne kept in his territory.
To everyone in the Obsidian Pack, I was nothing more than a pretty face.
Everyone said I wouldn't last three nights without the pack's protection.
I couldn't argue with that.
After all, my years as Chief Arbiter of the High Council and President of the Werewolf Association had worn me out. I'd spent every day putting down rebellions and keeping the packs in line.
All I wanted now was to retire in comfort.
No more getting dragged into power struggles. No more blood on my claws. Just a monthly trust-fund payment I could never spend fast enough.
Until the night of the full moon, when ten northern packs joined forces and attacked the Obsidian Pack.
Gideon's father, Marcus Thorne, was forced to step down, and the pack's best warriors were thrown into the silver prison.
Even Gideon, who had never lost a fight, was dragged to the negotiating table and pressured to surrender absolute control of his pack.
Julian Crowe, leader of the enemy alliance, shot me an arrogant look, a suggestive smile curling his lips. "Don't worry, Gideon. Once I take your pack, I'll look after this fragile little pet for you."
I looked at him and let the silence stretch.
If the Obsidian Pack fell tonight, where was I supposed to find another Alpha as rich, generous, and indulgent as Gideon?
A second before they could make Gideon sign, I took the seat at the head of the long table. Then I ripped the black iron token from the cord around my neck. I'd worn it against my skin for years.
"By my authority as Chief Arbiter of the High Council, I hereby freeze every territorial transfer on the continent."
I leaned back in the chair, my voice perfectly flat. "And tell the Alphas of these ten packs they have 30 minutes to get here, get on their knees, and explain tonight's stupidity to me."