The meeting hall was crowded even for a meeting like this one. I felt the weight of curious eyes, some concerned, some outright nosy, as I walked into the log building that housed our leader’s offices. The building was a long rectangle, nothing fancy, but solid—even now after housing four generations of pack leadership the thick wooden logs and double layer glass was solid and sure. A symbol of our strength, Dad said.
As a kid, I’d come with him and Mom a lot. I’d hang out in the meeting space that made up the atrium of the building, playing in the corners and making forts underneath the tables. I still liked the way it smelled of pine and orange cleaner every time. It was a strange nostalgic comfort to my senses—especially now, with Mom gone.
Still, even as my brain reminded me of it, I looked left automatically as I passed through the entrance. Mom’s office was that way. Now Dad’s office, I mentally corrected. And not much of her remained. I think it was too painful for him, but I’d still been hurt when he’d cleaned out her things so fast and put them in storage in our attic at home.
But something of her remained. I could feel it in the air as the crowd surged in behind me.
Shoulders jostled mine and I looked up to find Charlie wedged in beside me. She’d been different since I’d caught her running alone in the woods two days ago. Not quite enthusiastic about her fate but more … willing. Although she’d been guarded as well. And something told me Charlie wasn’t used to having to be strategic with her words. Still, she was doing it now. And still, every morning she ran alone at dawn.
I hadn’t mentioned it to Dad. He’d want her followed, but so far, she always came back. And I knew the importance of privacy when you were constantly in the spotlight, so I let her have it.
“Hey,” I said, taking in her pinched mouth and tight brow line. “You okay?”
“There are a lot of … people here,” she said, as if admitting a hidden fear.
“This is a bigger turnout than usual,” I said, debating how much to say. I was hyper aware of the others nearby who were probably listening to our exchange.
“Why?” Charlie asked.
I nudged her to the right toward our seats as others began to fill into the chairs around us.
“It’s the first meeting since … our leadership changed over,” I said, dodging the use of the word “Mom.”
“Do they want to see if your dad can handle it?” she asked, her word gentle.
“No, they know he can. It’s …” I sat and pulled her down beside me, sighing instead of finishing my sentence.
“They are here to see you,” she said knowingly. Sympathy broke through her nerves. “Regan, I’m—”
“And you,” I added hastily. I hated ruining the moment, but sympathy in front of prying eyes wasn’t something I could handle right now. “You’re shiny and new and they want to know about you,” I added.
“Of course,” she said and even though she didn’t sound upset to have the subject so abruptly changed, guilt pricked at me for ruining what might’ve been a nice moment between us.
To assuage my guilt and to fill the silence, I pointed out various elders and pack members as they took their seats. The noise level in the room grew from a hum to a dull roar and I finally left off rather than yell to be heard over it all.
Bevin and Carter entered and I smiled at them. They smiled back and Bevin’s gaze swept sideways to Charlie before her smile abruptly died off. I ducked my head, hoping Charlie missed it. No one else spoke to her—or me for that matter—and I wondered if the others felt like Bevin did or if they were keeping their distance out of respect. I wasn’t sure, but after that, I purposely kept my gaze averted while we waited for the meeting to begin. For some reason, I felt bad for the less-than-warm reception she was receiving.
Five minutes later, Sheridan’s voice cut through the noise in the meeting hall like a whip cracking. “This meeting of the pack will come to order.” At the sound of it, half the voices abruptly cut off.
She stood at the head of the table, her usual place despite the fact she wasn’t an alpha. I wasn’t exactly sure how she’d secured the spot except that Mom seemed to feel it was easier to let Sheridan sit there than to argue over it. Mom always said you had to pick your battles with Sheridan. That she wasn’t a woman to take on lightly. I thought Sheridan was a spoiled bitch. All she did was run the meetings. A spokeswoman. A secretary. And not a nice one at that.
The last kid to cross her in one of these meetings had ended up with a patrol line that skirted the sewer plant fifty miles north of here. The route wasn’t even in our territory, yet Sheridan had insisted there’d been reports of trespassers coming in that way. The kid had come home smelling like shit for weeks.
When I was alpha, I planned to have her seat moved to the back of the room. Or maybe outside. I hadn’t decided which.
I sat in the row behind Dad, at the opposite end of the table from Sheridan. Charlie was on my left in Carter’s usual seat. He’d looked pretty pissed to be giving it up, but Dad hadn’t given him a choice. These seats were for the higher ranking pack members, which no longer applied to Carter. He wasn’t happy about it, either, and let me know it by the silent glare he was aiming at the side of my head from his standing position along the wall. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of turning and acknowledging it, and I could tell that pissed him off even more. It’s not like it was my decision anyway.
Charlie shifted in her chair. I stole a glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her dark hair was in a long ponytail down her back, shiny and smooth. I felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of it. I would’ve loved long hair, but Mom would never allow it. She said it made your wolf too shaggy, which slowed you down. An alpha had to be the fastest in the pack—always.
At least she wasn’t wearing a dress anymore. She’d changed into jeans and a sheer blouse over a white tank. It was too feminine for my taste, too much work, but it looked nice on her. Soft, but nice.
“I said, come to order,” Sheridan repeated, this time with a distinct edge in her already hard voice.
One by one, the room fell silent under her unforgiving stare.