Alpha Rising (The Grey Wolves #12) - Quinn Loftis Page 0,113

the rest of the room erupted into shouts of excitement. The loud raucous continued for at least five minutes. Myanin wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d started beating their chests and swilling horns of ale.

Finally, the noise died down enough that she heard Alston’s next question. “Where is the vampire, Hatter, who killed the female?”

“Dead,” the reporting fae answered.

“A white wolf killed him and another warlock who had assisted Hatter.”

“Lucian,” Alston said, disdain filling his voice.

“And he is?” Myanin asked.

“The alpha’s brother,” Alston answered.

“Oooh,” she said slowly. “He’s going to be pissed.” She knew she would be if someone killed a member of her family. Just like she was sure her people were pissed at her for the life she’d taken. Murdering people was a dangerous business. She was going to need more cotton candy. It seemed to help keep her from thinking about the consequences of what she’d gotten herself into. Not only had she killed one of her own, she’d now joined in with an organization who’d just taken the lives of an alpha pair known across every supernatural race. Yep, she was definitely going to need a lot more cotton candy.

“I do believe a celebration is in order,” Ludcarab said as the noise died down. “Sincaro, Cain, why don’t you take your warriors out for a feast?”

Myanin swallowed down the bile as she saw the vampires licking their lips. She knew exactly what kind of feast they were talking about. Nasty parasites.

“The rest of us will break into my own personal stores of wine,” Ludcarab continued. “And Alston, could you provide some of the infamous fae dining fare?”

Alston actually smiled at the elf king. “I think I can manage that.”

Myanin had to think for a moment about what they meant. But then the knowledge from Lyra popped into her mind. The fae had food that had a drug-like effect. It caused euphoria in those who consumed it. “Great,” she muttered. “Just what we need: drunk, drugged, power-hungry supernaturals who are already high off the death of three formidable leaders. That’s not a recipe for disaster at all.”

“I expect you will be joining us.” Ludcarab turned to her, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Play their game, Myanin. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss a chance to celebrate a great victory.”

“Excellent.”

The shouting and general idiotic behavior continued as they patted one another’s backs, and the room began to disperse. Hopefully, they were at least going to put on clean clothes before the revelry began.

Myanin stood back and watched as Ludcarab spoke with several of the fae warriors, no doubt hoping for gruesome details of the deaths of the alphas and warlock king. She thought it foolish for them to let their guard down for even one night. Not only had Myanin been a warrior for a very long time, but she’d also learned much from one of their oldest history keepers. Thadrick had shared his wisdom with her, once upon a time, when they’d been close. He’d told her of mighty battles and the mistakes that the defeated had made. She’d always found it interesting to hear the tales of how a battle that had been so in favor of one race had suddenly turned without warning, giving the underdog the victory. She couldn’t help but cheer for the ones who’d won miraculously, though by all rights they shouldn’t have.

She walked over to the far wall and leaned against it; her eyes followed what was happening in the room but her mind was somewhere else. She couldn’t let nostalgia or the love she once held for Thadrick get in her way. He’d taken her life away, not just broken her heart. If the only way to get to him was by using the Order as a means of protection until the time to face him came, then she’d just have to play the part. She’d figure out a way to get out from under the Order’s thumb once Thad and his witch were in hell, where they could burn in agony together where they belonged.

“Jennifer.” Decebel’s voice filled her mind, and the urgency she heard caused her to surge to her feet. She’d been leaning against the wall playing a game with Titus through the wall while Thia tried to copy her knocks. She’d have to thank the Great Luna for giving her a genius rug rat, though Jen had a feeling that once Thia was a teenager, her opinion might change. She knew from her own personal experience that teenagers seemed to

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