Page 56 of Wolf Roulette
“We wholeheartedly agree,” Trixie muttered under her breath.
“Another condition,” I watched them closely, “is that full allowance is made for my Luther nature.”
“What allowances?” Nathan piped up. “The tribe won’t like that.”
“They’ll like it less when I die from failing to shift as I nearly have in the past. That’s non-negotiable. I won’t conceal who I am for the tribe’s comfort.”
Stanley pursed his lips. “You’re underestimating the resistance you’ll face in that quarter.”
“Then I can’t return. I recommend you return to tribe lands and hold another vote on the issue beforehand.” That vote could bite me in the ass, but the tribe were backed into a corner well and truly.
Pascal’s lips curved. “Perhaps seeing Andie as a wolf will have the opposite effect to what we expect. Perhaps it will improve relations between the pack and our tribe.”
The others didn’t seem convinced.
“Those in favour?” Nathan asked.
Everyone lifted their hands.
Roderick lowered his. “Anything else?”
Just one more condition. “There will be an end to extreme violence against Luthers. I don’t stand for it, and neither will the tribe under my leadership. I’ll step down at any sign of foul play. Without notice.”
The head team started to raise their arms.
“No need to vote. That was me telling you,” I informed them.
Trixie’s breath caught. “Is that a yes?”
Sascha moved for the first time since the head team arrived. I hoped he wasn’t about to destroy my groundwork.
Mind-speak in two-legged form would be super convenient right about now.
Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as he stormed from the pack house toward the forest. My ears picked up thecracksandpopsof his shift. The elastic sensation under my ribs tightened painfully as he sprinted away at full speed.
“Get back to me with the vote outcome. Pending a favourable result, I’m happy to talk more.”
Greyson’s mournful howl echoed to me from deep in the trees.
9
I watched the first rays of light stream in. Sascha’s bed lay cold and empty at my back, the blanket smooth, aside from the wrinkles where I’d caught a few hours of fitful sleep.
He hadn’t returned.
In the early hours this morning, I’d shifted to speak to him.
He’d slammed the door on that.
I tried running to him afterward, but he was so far away—right on the eastern outskirts of the valley.
Our connection had never felt so tight.
Opening my phone, I stared at the screenshot from Pascal that I received halfway during myDensshift last night.
The tribe voted in favour of my second condition. Well, 64 percent anyway.
I was officially head steward again—or could be.