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pull out the silver dagger with a bone handle, which can kill a wolf, but raise it high as a testament to our fearlessness.

Melchior’s obsidian eyes flash at the glinting silver in my hand. I bet he’d like to drive it into my heart. In an ancient response, my hackles lift and my wolf claws to get out. Before the Accords, wolves and fae were mortal enemies.

The fae king, leading this summit, says, “The Alpha Guardians and Warriors Council come to order after calling this summit to discuss the fate of Magical’s Most Wanted, the blaspheme, the forbidden, the monster. Kenna Slade.”

My claws emerge, and I tuck my hands behind my back.

“It has been several months, more than I would’ve granted had it been up to me. However, now it’s time to call her to trial for her crimes,” Melchior says.

“For existing?” I ask.

Melchior’s lip curls. “I’m beginning to think you have a fondness for the wretch.”

My jaw ticks.

Ivan ignores Melchior. “Have you learned anything significant about the werewolf?”

“Only how to break the curse,” I say.

“Then you’ve been in touch with my contacts?” Ivan asks.

“King Callen was amusing...and helpful,” I say, referring to the wolf king from Borea.

Ivan chuckles.

“I don’t have time for your idle chitchat,” Melchior says.

“Isn’t this how diplomacy is done or would you prefer a dictatorship—your way or no way?” Ivan says measuredly.

I sense a mite of tension between the fae king and vampire.

“By the Articles of Accord, when we discovered the offspring of Greyson Slade and the vampire, we agreed to destroy it,” Melchior says.

My fists curl. My claws dig into my skin.

“By the way you said the word vampire, for a moment, I thought you placed blame with us. Let me remind you that Greyson is fae too,” Ivan hisses at Melchior.

“Despite my repeated attempts to end Greyson, yes, he’s fae and wolf.” Melchior tightens his grip around the scepter and glares at both of us.

“It might be interesting to note that the werewolf wasn’t originally a shifter,” I say, getting back to the subject I’m most concerned about.

“Are you suggesting she was fae?” Melchior asks, affronted.

“I neither implied the werewolf was fae nor female,” I reply. Once more my wolf senses prick. How did Melchior know the werewolf was female?

“But she could be,” Ivan says. He rolls his shoulders.

The tension in the shabby room tightens. I sense the faintest tug of the vampire mesmer to influence moods and emotions. My attention flashes to Ivan, who warded the room with runes. Then I gaze at Melchior, who shows no recognition that the vampire was trying to ply us with his power. My brow furrows as I try to figure out why Ivan would’ve done that.

Whatever the reason, it works and Melchior mellows. “After years of strife, fighting among magicals and endangering humans, we banded together. We fought against our base instincts toward violence and murder. Now, an enemy threatens to reverse the spell, causing us to be the beasts we once were. What we have fought to leave as a dark part of history. The only way to protect ourselves and humankind are by upholding the laws we put forth.”

“Ironic that it involves violence and murder,” I mutter.

Ivan lifts an eyebrow sharply.

I continue. “My intention in keeping Kenna Slade among my pack is for the protection of others. She’s aligned with her wolf and doesn’t show overt signs of using her other forms of magic. It was my hope she’d lure the werewolf to us.”

Then, on the spot, I have an idea influenced by how I used Kenna to expose the Klave. Instead, we learned there is a werewolf on the loose and a member of my pack betrayed us.

Ivan gives me an almost imperceptible nod, urging me to go on.

“I will make Kenna find her father and bring him to us. Then we can do with them as we see fit.”

I don’t think about what this deceit will mean. All I want is time to figure things out, to let her magic manifest, and hopefully bring her fully into my pack and my heart. But doing that means lies and bloodshed. I don’t see any other way.

Maybe using my fated mate as bait for the third time will be the charm.

“Are we in agreement?” Ivan asks.

“How much more time?” Melchior asks.

“Until Hallows Eve.”

“No, the Autumn Equinox,” Melchior says.

“Fine,” I say. A month isn’t much time, but it’s better than nothing.

“Are we done here?” Melchior asks.

I extend my silver dagger. The others do the same as the metal and our magic fuses, binding the agreement. I exhale with relief as Melchior exits with a disgusted sniff at the shoddy surroundings.

Moments later, Ivan traces a Rune of Power on the wall and the room transforms into a place of palatial proportions with crystal chandeliers, inlaid wood trim, and a fresco on the wall that’s undoubtedly from the Renaissance.

Ivan smirks. “I like to mess with him.”

“I noticed.”

“The mesmer?” Ivan asks, brushing his hand in the air like it was no big deal. “I knew you needed more time. Hope it helps. Find Greyson.” Then he disappears with the whoosh of another rune.

Chapter 3

Kenna

I wake from my usual dream with a startle. In physical form, my vision isn’t as keen as my wolf’s, but I plainly see that Corbin isn’t here.

Some might argue that Corbin sitting in my room at night, watching over and protecting me, is Edward and Bella-level weird. It’s comforting even though I was a Team Jacob girl. Go figure.

I’ve had dreams about the wolf and me in the meadow on full moon nights for as long as I can remember. When I arrived in Polaris, they came to

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