Page 158 of Burning Embers

With more questions than I have answers to and a burning need to ask them all.

Fifty-Three

ASHTON

“You know why you’re all here.” My father stands in the center of the room, his arms outstretched, a sadistic smile on his face as he revels in the attention.

The pompous prick loves commanding an audience.

Matthew—the twins’ dad—shifts uncomfortably on the couch and then places a hand on his mate’s knee. Her sobs fill the room as she struggles to control herself. Their other two packmates stand behind the sofa, matching scowls on their faces and their arms crossed over their chests.

I allow my gaze to flick from person to person. Taking everything in. Assessing the situation. It’s what I’m good at, after all, and what will make me a valuable Council member as soon as I take over for my father.

Emery and Ethan stand on either side of me, the former practically trembling with unbridled rage while the latter just appears confused. Reid remains on the opposite side of the room, hovering over our esteemed guest.

Grayson Grey.

Raw fury threatens to plow me over, but I work to keep it adequately contained. I didn’t rise through the ranks by giving in to my emotions. I can’t afford to be irrational or erratic. I need to think with my brain, not my heart or even my cock. It’s the only way to survive this bloodthirsty world.

My brothers refuse to, so the responsibility falls on me.

I purse my lips as I study the prisoner with a keen eye.

So far, he hasn’t said much, keeping his head down and his shoulders slumped. I try to determine how much of that is an act and how much of it is resignation. I’ll be surprised if he’s already given in. And a little disappointed too.

Grayson fucking Grey.

Who is this man that thrust himself into my world and uprooted it? He seems to be important to Isabella, but why?

Is he the murderer Emery suspects him to be?

I don’t rush to judgments like my impulsive packmates. That’s not who I am. If I don’t have all the pieces, then I won’t even attempt to put the puzzle together.

It’s why I’m staying clear of Isabella.

She’s an enigma. A mystery.

I hate mysteries.

But that’s not the only reason I’m staying away from her.

It’ll be better for everyone if she hates me.

Even as I think that, a searing fire blazes through my chest and down my sternum.

Well, if you want her to hate you, then mission accomplished.

I rub at the ache building there and inwardly curse my pesky, wayward emotions. Somehow, they’ve gotten away from me without my consent, and it’ll take an eternity to reel them back in and get them under control.

My father clears his throat, garnering the room’s attention once more.

We’re in the main Council building, which is nothing but a tiny brick building disguised as an office complex. The interior, however, doesn’t have offices or cubicles. Instead, it leads to a spacious room with a lit hearth, a few couches, and a wooden table that serves refreshments.

My mother was the one who designed this space, actually. She wanted it to be cozy in order to make the visiting packs and wolves more comfortable. I’m sure my father would prefer to have a throne to lord over the others, but he doesn’t have the heart to change anything. This was the last project my mother worked on before she…

A lump materializes in my throat. Swallowing proves to be impossible.

“Grayson Grey. You stand accused of being a Hunter responsible for the murders of Alixandra Laffey and Larissa Clarke.” Even my father, in all his apathetic glory, can’t hide the darkness seeping into his voice.