Page 40 of Angel's Conquest
“Piotr, the most lethally precise longbowman in my arsenal, was called away right before we were due to depart for your lands. His younger sister, Anya, was injured while attending classes at one of the human community colleges. She was studying finance and hoped to one day use her expertise to see whether human tactics could be applicable and helpful to lycan business structures. She wished to become a financial facilitator of sorts, aiding other lycans in their businesses to help them understand how to become more profitable, how to scale up their earnings, and learn when it was appropriate to hire more staff or to let employees go. These are skills that are much needed among my people if we want to survive into the future of the types of commerce the world seems to be heading toward.”
The matter-of-fact tone sent off warning bells throughout Bronze’s skull. All too quickly, he remembered he’d left his weapons in his room at Clara’s request, and the lycans were not ones to use utensils to eat, preferring instead to pick at their food with their fingers. There wasn’t a knife in sight.
But he still had his angel fire. One flick of a thought and this asshole’s scruff was going the way of a barbecued dodo.
Lord Raff ambled closer to them and put his empty wineglass down on the table in front of one of his males, a large blond lycan with a military fade, bulbous chin, and icy eyes that seemed to miss nothing. Without preamble, Lord Raff purloined the male’s wine and brought it to his lips. When he downed the drink in three large swallows, he set the glass back on the table and returned his focus to Clara.
“Do you know how she was injured?”
“You know she doesn’t, asshole,” Bronze interjected.
Those black orbs cut right to Bronze, and Lord Raff’s smugness took on an edge of hostility. “Let me guess. The demigod.”
“I’d bow, but I just ate.” Bronze patted his stomach indolently. “Wouldn’t want to get anything twisted in there and wind up with indigestion.”
“Bronze, please,” Clara whispered.
“No, lady. If this male is to be your supposed champion, perhaps some perspective is in order. I should have clarified. Forgive me. My best longbowman returned home not to be at his sister’s side but to help bury her. You see, on Anya’s way home that day, she shifted into her wolf and traveled through the forest at the northeastern edge of California, as was her usual habit. It is not a human public hunting ground, mind you. She and all of my people know better than to traipse through any of those woods, but it leaves precious little left for us to live and hunt in safely. But not so little, mind you, for the humans to hunt in kind. Apparently, their laws are nothing more than poorly governed suggestions. Despite their legislation regarding the ban on hunting wolves, it is still done. The canines, and us when in that form, are viewed as exotic prizes, revered for little more than our pelts and bragging rights from one human hunter to the next.” Raff rounded the corner of the table and halted his advance a few feet in front of Clara, then clasped his hands behind his back. “Anya, unfortunately, was no exception.”
Bronze had to give it to the asshole. He knew how to command a room and pause for effect. While Bronze had no wish to diminish the loss of another soul, whether lycan or mortal, and truly felt the death of the innocent female as keenly as anyone in the room, he also saw the warlord’s play for what it was: more goddamn strategy.
“I am sorry to hear that, Lord Raff,” Clara offered with deepest sincerity. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Of course you didn’t, and that, my dear, is the problem. We, as lycans, have spent far too much time in the human lands living as if our own people didn’t matter, as if we are not also worthy of respect.” He swept a brawny hand out to encompass all at the table. “How many here have suffered from human hunters and poachers over the years? From what your king tells me, your circumstances are not so different from ours. Relegated to living in the forest lest humans find you and learn that there are stronger, faster beings out there that could tear them apart if given the freedom to do so. Forced to trade and barter with those who would see us annihilated just for the opportunity to share one-tenth of the wealth they enjoy so freely. I’ll admit, our territories do not boast the former glory they once did. Our numbers are dwindling to the point where it has become easier to remain small, remain hidden. Though it pains me to say it, the west has become a sparse and dangerous place for lycans and will worsen should we continue to take the easier, less abrasive paths available to us.”
The hall fell silent in anticipation of Lord Raff’s next words. When none came, a far more shocking thing happened: the warlord dropped to one knee before Clara. His large thigh was nearly as broad as the side of a barn and level with her bent waist as she sat in front of him. A meaty hand grabbed up hers and hovered it possessively in front of his bearded jaw. “I have learned, lady, over many centuries that the easy things are not worth having.”
The kiss wasn’t brief. It was slow, insistent. A fucking brand that marred her beautiful skin. Affection had no place in what Bronze was witnessing, and the dark shadows in Lord Raff’s gaze promised the same.
This was another move. A power play. A message.
Heat punched up through Bronze’s core. He was going to rip the asshole’s arm out of its socket and make a tripod of the lycan leader—after his angel fire singed off all the important bits and fed the well-done meat to a few deserving coyotes.
His fire was there. It was right there, punching against his core, yet the power of it was no stronger than the lit end of a cigarette.
What the fuck?
Bronze tried again, calling on his angel fire, summoning it, roaring for it, but the flaming tendrils barely licked beneath his skin.
Not good. Not fucking good.
Sweat mottled the back of Bronze’s neck. Amid his panic, Lord Raff dropped Clara’s hand, who promptly swiped it back. Then he stood and walked over to stand behind the male whose cup he had drained of wine earlier.
“King Halpin has informed me of the Betrothal Games, and after consulting with his advisors, I have been made aware that I am to compete for your hand in mating. It is an honor I do not think you yet understand the magnitude of. With our union, princess, these great lycan territories will finally join as one and see the prosperity long denied them. No longer will we cower in our forests or wallow away under the ineffectual laws of an inferior species. We are lycan, blessed by the Moon Mother! And thanks to you, princess, your people will have the opportunity to witness the true strength of what the next generation of lycan leadership shall look like and who will usher them into a new wave of security and affluence.” Despite directing his words at Clara, Lord Raff kept his eyes on Bronze and punctuated the power of his stance. Most notably, his very lycan stance.
The king stood to join the warlord. “Thank you, Lord Raff, for your insightful words. We all pray to the Moon Mother for the soul of young Anya and that she be welcomed back to the sanctuary of the moon’s embrace with all due expediency.”
Lord Raff bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“Now, there is one small final matter of business before we can resign for the evening. My daughter has chosen her champion, the demigod Bronze. Lord Raff has delighted me in accepting the position as a second contender. Therefore, it is only fitting to reward our guests with another esteemed opportunity to demonstrate the true power of the lycans.”
Bronze seethed against both the power that wasn’t surfacing and the power that was playing out before him.
“The third selection, as is the will of the king, will be none other than Lord Raff’s second-in-command, Byron, and the fiercest, most devoted ally among the western territory lycans.” The king held his hand out, gesturing toward the brawny blond male seated in front of where Lord Raff stood.
A perfectly placed knight in a game of chess.
The king lifted his wineglass. “The games will commence in three days’ time. Whosoever wins all three obstacles shall win the hand of my daughter, as well as the allegiance of my kingdom.”