“Welcome, everyone,” Maverick called out, instantly silencing the room. His navy-blue suit made his eyes seem even brighter. This man embodied everything many aspired to be: attractive, charismatic, wealthy, and powerful. Yet, the soul’s danger lies in its ability to rot from the inside, no matter how beautiful the exterior.
Whispers filled the room about Arnold Fox’s sudden absence, but I forced myself to remain calm, listening intently to every murmur.
“As you all have likely noticed, we are missing a certain table member,” Maverick began, raising an eyebrow. Although he wasn’t looking directly at me, I couldn’t shake my paranoia. “Arnold Fox was called back to his pack early this morning due to a misunderstanding. He regrets leaving ahead of schedule but hopes to return before our final meeting concludes.”
I let out a quiet sigh of relief. My eyes instinctively darted to Carlos Caddel, who wore a leather jacket and had his raven hair brushed back. I noticed a faint scar across his forehead, wondering how I missed it before. He was staring right at me, his pale eyes unnervingly calm. Carlos nodded at me ever so slightly, a gesture that said, “I’ve held up my end. Can you hold up yours?”
“With that being said, Nick Fox, eldest son of Arnold Fox, will take his father’s place for now. He will arrive within the hour and be fully briefed on everything discussed so far. Should Arnold be unable to return, his son will make an educated vote representing his father’s authority and expectations.”
The room buzzed with whispers, but none suggested foul play. I counted to ten, exhaled slowly, and squeezed Kieran’s hand, finding solace in his touch.
“Now that all announcements are done, let us begin today’s meeting,” Damion Baron announced, smoothing down his platinum grey suit. He looked impeccable but rigid, unapproachable.
“Griffin, you were quiet at our last meeting. Care to begin this one?” Damion asked, glancing coolly at the lowest-ranking High Table member.
Griffin Allard had the most to lose if I joined the High Table. His smile to the room was empty, an alien mimicry of human expression. “Yes, well, I needed more information before jumping to conclusions. While my seat is on the line, I aim to be as unbiased as possible. I think Maverick should continue for now. I’ll consider what’s been discussed so far.”
I couldn’t suppress a silent snort, stiffening immediately after. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice.
“Ouch,” I hissed, rubbing the spot on my arm Kieran had pinched. He glanced at Griffin and back to me, smirking.
“Oh,” I mouthed sheepishly, “Sorry.”
“Per our last meeting, we confirmed Ms. Sophia’s abilities and discussed her potential in our world,” Damion continued. “While she appears to control her abilities, it is in our best interest to monitor her progress and ensure she matures with full control.”
“That being said, she could be of use to our packs, ensuring our kind’s success,” Carlos Caddel interjected, tossing me a lazy smile with hidden depths in his eyes.
“How right you are,” Maverick agreed, turning his gaze to me, cold and calculating beneath his friendly exterior. Kieran’s emotions turned brittle, but he managed to contain his rage.
“Even though you know little about our world, you have an opportunity to make a difference. It is our hope that you see this as an opportunity. While we each may have different terms and requests, you are not forced to choose. You have the right to accept or deny as you see fit.”
Straightening my spine, I approached the center of the room. Only I could hear the rapid beating of my heart, mirroring the whispers around me. “I make no promises, but I will listen to your offers,” I said, locking eyes with Maverick.
Maverick knew I wasn’t fooled. Any deal with him would likely end in my death or enslavement. “Though we communicate as one, we are five individual packs with our own customs. Any agreements will reflect our singular pack,” he continued with a thin smile.
His words caused a stir, whispers of “takeover,” “selfish,” and “plotting” circulating. Maverick’s actions were unusual, and it surprised many.
“As head of the High Table, I’ll start with what my pack can offer in return for your service,” Maverick announced. “You would have access to my entire collection of knowledge, including information on white wolves. You may also access my outside sources. I have a few white wolves on my territory, and I’d be willing to transfer any that wish to move to your domain. Most in my pack provide protection from rogues. Lastly, you must reside in my pack four months a year. There, you will train and aid me in High Table matters. Your mates may attend as well. Should you accept my terms, I would welcome you as head of the High Table and serve as your mentor.”
His terms were surprising. The crowd cooed at his generosity, but I saw it for what it was-a death sentence. Maverick was cutting his long-time accomplice, Griffin, out of the picture, essentially handing me my seat.
Griffin’s rage was palpable. From my spot, I could hear the wooden dais creak under his fingers. His eyes burned with hellfire, all directed at me. Maverick Billford had flipped the script, and the other High Table members were clearly unhappy.
“Well, though it’s pointless, I’ll go next,” Damion said, clearing his throat. His discomfort was evident, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “While my collection is smaller than Maverick’s , you’ll find things even he does not have. I offer my knowledge and my pack’s aid. Rather than force you to my land, I would pay you monthly visits to ensure your abilities remain stable.”
The murmurs indicated that Damion’s proposal was reasonable, a potential alliance with fewer stipulations.
I smoothed any emotion from my face and nodded at Damion Baron. Next was Carlos, who was reclined in his chair, cleaning his nails with a serrated blade, seemingly oblivious to the conversation. Damion nudged him, catching his attention. The knife disappeared in a flash, faster than I could see.
“Ah, my turn, is it?” he grunted, stretching. He brushed back the inky hair that fell across his forehead and gave me a long look. His voice was slow and drawn out, and I almost wanted to laugh at his audacity to be bored during a meeting about my right to live. “I got no use for your abilities, kid. I can give you information, training, whatever you need. Wouldn’t mind a powerful pack having my back-and vice versa. You want an alliance? We can talk. I don’t need a guard dog.”
Part of me hoped Carlos wasn’t a terrible person because he seemed like someone I could get along with. He was strange but honest, a refreshing change in a place built on lies. His offer was the best yet, proposing an alliance rather than servitude.
Griffin Allard remained silent. The setup was horribly unfair, and if he weren’t a psychopath, I might’ve felt sorry for him. There was no point in him offering me anything. Accepting one of the other offers meant kicking him from his place at the High Table, an inevitability.
“Three very generous offers. All of which could benefit our species,” Maverick finally spoke, casting a sharp look towards Carlos. “Should you choose one, contracts will be drawn afterward. These offers are on a trial basis. We still don’t know the full extent of your abilities, though we know what you could be capable of at full maturity. During this trial period, you will be closely monitored. Whomever you choose will ensure you have complete control at all times.”
It was essentially a prison sentence. No matter what I chose, Maverick Billford would get what he wanted. Choosing Carlos and declining Damion and Maverick would provoke retaliation. There was no way Maverick would let me slip through his greedy fingers.
“What will happen should she decline all three offers? What will happen then to ensure she maintains control over her abilities?” Griffin Allard asked, his voice oily and eyes narrowed. He stood and addressed the crowd. “You are not thinking of the future. Yes, she might learn to control her abilities, but it is she who can use them. How can we dictate what she does with these gifts? What if one morning she wishes to eradicate the High Table? It would take an army to stop her. What ensures us that this day will never come? I am thinking of our future, of your grandchildren’s children. What is truly best for us? This ability might’ve been celebrated in a time of war. We are at peace right now. Perhaps we do not need her abilities at this given point in our history. Even worse, she is causing chaos that has long been purged from the High Table. I will not fall for the allure of power, no matter how the package might look. This she-wolf wields death, and she is here to bring war.”