Shattered - Completed

43 - Allies

"I went to MoonGlist," Malcolm explains. "Two weeks later. I snuck in. She was there, staring at the river with tears in her eyes. She was the tiniest little pup. So quiet. Lost, even then. Never laughed or sang or played. She smiled, sometimes, to herself." He laughs sourly and rubs his head again, "why am I telling you this?" he snarls.

"The Knowing is prodding you," I reply casually. "It does that. Tell me about my mate, Malcolm, and I will return the favor." My elite shuffle closer, eager to hear this, to understand why their prince has been chasing this female so single-mindedly. They won't really understand it until they meet her, but I can at least offer some explanation.

His eyes narrow on mine. Slowly, he assesses me, head to foot. "Alright, aye. Let's sit and see what damage your warriors have caused, and we'll swap stories, Prince."

I glance at Levan as the tension recedes from the cavern just a bit. Behind him, I see Nyel. I survey the wolves in the cavern. Malcolm has maybe forty, forty-five wolves here, most of them male. I don't see the female Nyel Claimed in the Knowing.

We ruined MoonGlist. Completely and utterly devastated the pack. Without CeCe there, we burned the entire village to the ground. Nothing remains and any wolves who survived have scattered into the wilderness. Where are those females my elite Claimed in the Knowing? And why didn't we think of Claiming them before CeCe?

"You look upset," Javi remarks quietly.

"The MoonGlist survivors," I say to Malcolm, "have any come north to you?"

Malcolm frowns as he directs some of his wolves to set up seats for us. "They wouldn't come here. It's too well hidden. Any asylum-seekers would go to the castle."

"The castle is empty," I point out.

"Under the castle," Malcolm says slowly, "there are secret tunnels. More than can be counted. It's very secure."

My fiend curls his lip up before he rolls over onto his back, snuggling closer to his she-wolf as if he were an adorable, overgrown pup. CeCe's tiny she-wolf huffs at him, her tail thumping the ground twice in frustration. The tunnels are a problem.

Too bad my son isn't here to lead her out. That pup is an escape artist.

As if my thoughts bled into Malcolm's consciousness, he speaks up, "I heard that you're engaged." He sits and stares at me balefully.

I sit on another overturned wooden crate and cross my arms over my chest. The crate is low to the ground, as are all the other 'chairs.' I sprawl one leg out to balance myself, taking up more room. I feel a little like an overgrown pup. Which reminds me... "Don't worry about that female. It's not a formal betrothal. It never was."

"An informal understanding, then?" Malcolm growls, playing the big brother, but he doesn't need to protect my mate. I protect her. Not one of my beloved's serpents will get anywhere near her.

My fiend snarls, but I keep it under wraps. Malcolm is protective and I can't fault him for that. "She whelped my pup. I have a son, Salvatore. We have a son. CeCe adores him and he, her."

Malcolm's left eye twitches. "Does he love her? My sister loves your pup? A pup she has never seen from a male she has met, and the female who whelped him isn't really your betrothed?"

I just smile.

Malcolm's jaw clenches and his green eyes flash with ire, but he gives up on that line of questioning. "And your elite?" he glances around as my wolves fan out, taking up positions all along the walls of the cavern without being overtly hostile.

"Love her, too," I reply flatly.

I can hear his back teeth grind. The twitch over his eyes grows worse. "The king?" he whispers.