Allegiance of Honor (Psy-Changeling #15) - Nalini Singh Page 0,90

offered a view into an empty kitchen, the speakers most likely in the room beyond.

“You have to sleep, Monroe,” a female voice pleaded. “You’ve been up for five days straight except for a few snatches here and there.”

“No, I have to stay awake. Have to protect.” The tone of the male voice was wrong, the words a little off.

Jagged. Broken.

“You’re our alpha.” The woman sounded on the verge of tears. “We need your guidance now more than ever, but the lack of sleep is making you erratic.”

Growls sounded from within, along with the slap of feet moving back and forth across the floor, back and forth.

“Monroe.” The woman, who must have been the healer, tried again. She’d managed to get her incipient tears under control, sounded gentle and coaxing as she said, “I’ve made you a cup of tea. It’ll relax—”

The sound of china crashing to the earth, liquid splashing on wood. “I don’t need any fucking tea!” It was a roar.

Concerned for the healer and aware the two soldiers probably couldn’t hear the commotion from their watch positions, Lucas flowed into the aerie through the window. His eyes had already adapted to the light so he padded through the kitchen straight into the living area. The alpha was looming over his healer, his brown hair streaked with gray and sticking up in tufts and the pale skin of his face blotchy red, his fists clenched.

The healer was a fragile-looking woman, maybe eighty years of age. To her credit, she wasn’t flinching, was in fact still attempting to reason with her alpha.

“Monroe Halliston.” Lucas leaned against a wall, his posture deliberately unthreatening. “We need to talk.”

Spinning around with a snarl, the ocelot alpha came at him like a hurricane. Lucas had expected the violent instinctive reaction, had the other alpha on the floor in seconds, the older man’s wrists locked behind his back. When the healer went as if to cry out for help, he shook his head. “I’ve come to talk,” he said quietly. “You call the soldiers inside and this could end in blood.”

The ebony-skinned woman swallowed, looked at his face, her brown eyes on the lines that had marked him from birth. “Lucas Hunter. DarkRiver.”

Enraged by the sound of those words, Monroe Halliston attempted to flip Lucas off him. Lucas held him in place with increased pressure. “I came to talk,” he reiterated.

“I don’t want to talk to the bastard who helped the Psy murder us!”

Lucas’s blood ran cold.

Making a snap decision, he returned his attention to the healer. “Call your soldiers,” he ordered. “Tell them I’m not here to spill blood, but I will if they don’t both come through the door in the next two minutes.” Lucas had done a full reconnaissance before he approached the aeries, knew there was no threat out there that could prove a danger while the dominants were away from their watch.

“Don’t follow his orders!” the alpha yelled, but the healer seemed to realize Lucas was dead serious.

Running to the door, she called out to the two dominants. They appeared breathless in the doorway within the allotted two minutes, during which time, Monroe raved and ranted. Lucas hauled the other alpha to his feet, but kept his eyes on the soldiers, taking in their ragged condition, the bags under their eyes. “Keep your hands in plain view,” he said in a tone that brooked no disobedience. “I’ve got no fight with you.”

“You’re holding our alpha hostage.” It was a tired statement from the male half of the pair. “We have to act.”

“I’ll incapacitate you in seconds,” Lucas said over Monroe’s screaming at them to intervene. “At which point your remaining packmates, including the cubs, will be helpless.”

The two soldiers looked at Monroe, who continued to demand they fight. Faces growing tight, they stepped back to take up watchful positions by the door, their hands clasped in front of their bodies as per Lucas’s order. Their actions told Lucas this alpha-pack relationship had been all but broken long before Lucas arrived—Monroe’s unthinking orders had simply put the final nail in the coffin.

Holding the other alpha’s wrists in an unbreakable grip, Lucas grabbed a navy blue scarf from the floor. It must’ve been the healer’s. He dragged the alpha into a chair, then used the scarf to tie the other man’s hands to the back of it, so that they could have a face-to-face conversation.

He didn’t think Monroe Halliston was thinking clearly enough to attempt to break his bonds by semi-shifting, but