Stop it, Drew,I chastised myself, and thankfully, I was provided with a distraction when Oz snapped, “You’re in America, fuckers. Talk in fucking English!”
Lucien stiffened again, and Blaise’s hand tightened on his shoulder before he turned his head to Oz. “I’m trying to save your hide,imbécile,” he said, and unlike Lucien, who had a mild accent, Blaise’s was rather thick. “Or you’d rather die?”
Oz laughed out loud in bitter humor as he returned his glare to Lucien. “As if this poor excuse for an Alpha woulddare—”
He didn’t get to finish the sentence because in less than a second, Lucien broke away from Blaise’s hold and was on the other side of the round table, pinning Oz to the floor with a long sharp claw at his throat, his arctic-blue eyes cold enough to cause frostbite.
I was on my feet, heart booming in my ears, as I strode toward Lucien. But I stopped in my place when I saw Lucien was merely grazing Oz’s throat with his sharp claw, just enough to draw blood but not to cause serious damage.
Then I looked at Oz’s face and saw his eyes were wide with triumph, and I was suddenly angry on Lucien’s behalf.
I had no idea about Lucien and Oz’s history, but evidently, it was nothing good. Maybe there was a good reason for Oz’s hatred—I didn’t know, like I was still learning to understand Lucien—but one thing I was sure about.
A person who truly believed they were in the right wouldn’t stoop to personal insults.
“Why wouldn’t I dare, Oz?” Lucien now said, his voice venomous as he stared at Oz. “Killing you would be as easy as swatting a fly. I already plan on replacing Mack, so it’s not going to be that difficult to find another wolf to replace you.”
Even though he was obviously facing death, Oz laughed. “The pack won’t stand for it, you fucking moron,” he spat out. “You can’t kill me for merely talking shit.”
I was reminded just then of my conversation with Lucien about what type of leadership an Alpha should enforce in their pack. He’d said he was trying his best to find a balance. That treating a pack as only a family, for instance, was bound to fail. He said the same thing was true for being an absolute ruler—a dictator.
When Lucien cut into Oz’s throat, I realized which type he believed was right to deal with the current situation.
Oz’s eyes bulged as he screamed, but suddenly his voice cut off, his screams silent, as Lucien tore something in his throat—his vocal cords, perhaps.
Silence spread through the room as Oz, who thrashed and tried to scream, suddenly turned still, blood spilling down from the wound into a pool on the floor.
Once Oz was down for the count, Lucien rose to his feet, grabbed a napkin from the table, and cleaned his razor-sharp claw. “Anaïs,” he commanded in a curt tone, and Anais, who’d been silent the entire meeting, simply observing everything, came to stand next to him at once. Surprisingly, her face was blank, unfazed.
“Yes, Alpha,” she said, staring down at Oz.
“Call Rémi and take him to the Ward,” Lucien instructed, turning to look at her with eyes still bright with anger. “I want him fully healed—but for his vocal cords. He’d better remain silent.”
The fact Lucien thought Oz could be healed was astounding to me. This kind of injury would’ve killed any normal person.
But werewolves must be built differently, because Anais gave a jerky nod and made a call before she leaned down next to Oz and grabbed his hand, closing her eyes.
Lucien then turned to the remaining four Betas. “I hope none of you have any more criticism to share,” he said dryly.
Callista, Teya, and Ren all shook their heads, faces grim. Blaise merely sighed.
“Good.” Lucien nodded and turned to look at me. His face softened somewhat. “I’m sorry you had to see this,” he told me quietly, and turned to look behind me. “You too.”
Frowning, I turned around to see he had spoken to Thayer. My brother had been so quiet, I forgot he was even here. Seeing him now, with his face pale, his lips pressed together, and his fingers twitching in agitation, I realized Thayer was having a hard time processing this.
An idea occurred to me just then. “Lucien,” I said quietly, “it’s already late. Maybe we can continue this meeting tomorrow? When everyone is much calmer?”
I caught Lucien’s gaze. Behind his resolute anger, he was exhausted. I could tell. It had been a long day, after a long week, and he needed rest. Thayer and I, too, and I was sure Enoch did as well, since he’d been practically snoozing in his seat the entire meeting.
Lucien seemed to realize the same thing, and he let out a breath before turning to his Betas. “Callista, Teya,” he said, addressing the female Betas, “you take the first guest room. Blaise, Ren, and Enoch—you can use sofas in the living room. They open into beds. Thayer”—he turned to my brother—“you can take the second guest room.” He paused, returned his gaze to his Betas, and said, “We’ll continue this tomorrow morning before the pack meeting.”
I had no idea what the pack meeting was, but I had far more pressing matters to attend to. As everyone left the room—including Enoch, who moved unsteadily on his two feet, and Thayer, who seemed so lost, I kinda pitied him—I grabbed Lucien’s arm to draw his attention to me. “Where do I sleep?” I asked in a soft murmur.
It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he replied matter-of-factly, “In my room, of course.”
My heart raced now. “Are you sure?” I asked, letting him go in favor of fiddling with the hem of my shirt. “I can sleep with Thayer, if you want—”
“Drew,” he said, making me freeze. “It’s been a long day, and I spent most of it worried about you.”