into step beside her.
“About what exactly?” Selene gave him a cool glance.
“About what you’re about to ask the Council.” He nodded toward the massive double doors down the hallway.
A frown puckered Selene’s brow. How could he possibly know? She’d spoken to no one about her plans, and Desmond did not possess any telepathic abilities. At least none of which she was aware.
“I must go.” She released his arm and turned toward where Oren stood patiently waiting.
“Princess?”
Selene gave him one last glance over her shoulder.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He winked and then strolled back down the hall, whistling an off-key tune.
Selene’s lips twitched in amusement. Dismissing Desmond from her mind, she turned back to Oren, serious once more. He opened the doors with a flourish and announced her arrival to the assembled Council members.
Selene glided silently through the doors into a large round chamber, once the original Great Hall of the ancient castle but since modernized for more practical purposes. Before her, assembled in a ring around the chamber, stood the decision makers of her pack. Some were in their wolf form, but most appeared as humans. Now that Gideon was gone, Selene had noticed that more and more of the pack preferred their human form for day-to-day activities. She’d also noticed that the Council, without Gideon’s influence directing them, had a great deal of difficulty in making decisions. Although that wasn’t why she’d gathered them today.
Damn you, Maddox! Selene mentally castigated one of the lead wolves who’d abandoned them when Gideon had died. His departure had cast a shadow of doubt on her rule of the Vyusher. Now she was forced to take a step that part of her questioned, part of her wanted—an internal battle of wills she suspected would rage long after the decision had been finalized. Regardless of right or wrong, she’d have to handle this moment with delicacy and tact—traits she secretly feared she didn’t possess.
“My Lords and Ladies,” she spoke in her mellifluous voice, commanding their attention. “I have gathered you here to put forth a request of a personal nature….”
Selene paused and looked around, careful to make brief eye contact with each person in the room.
“My request is to leave the pack for a period of time,” she announced.
A loud murmur buzzed through the assembled group. Selene stood calm and still, waiting for the mumblings to quiet. “I have felt for some time that my presence is a cause for concern,” she continued. “As we all continue to regain our true memories and realize the extent of what Gideon did to us, my relation to my brother makes it difficult for our people to trust me. And that directly impacts their ability to trust you. After a great deal of thought, I know in my heart that this is the right thing to do for the pack. So I ask you to allow me to go.”
The quiet emotion in her final plea caused many of the Council members to pay closer attention. Their princess never showed visible emotion. The fact that she allowed herself to do so on this occasion indicated the seriousness of her petition. The assembled Council members regarded each other.
“Where would you go?” Oren asked. Selene’s heart ached at the sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t shared this decision with him beforehand. She couldn’t. It would’ve been too difficult.
“I thought maybe I’d go to college. It’s an opportunity I’ve never been granted, as well as a plausible explanation for an absence of a decent interval. When I complete my coursework, then we can discuss the possibility of my return.”
“Princess…” Xavier, the head of the Council, rose from his seat and moved forward. “If you would step out for a moment, we will discuss your request.”
“Of course.” Selene projected a calm she wasn’t feeling as she turned and left the room. Once outside in the hallway, she refused to allow herself to pace as she waited for the Council’s decision. Instead she stood silently, her hands folded gracefully in front of her, back straight, head held high. Her serene countenance gave absolutely no sign of the internal turmoil that was rolling through her.
The reasons she’d given the Council for wanting to leave were legitimate; however, she deliberately failed to mention the most important reason – the nightmares. She knew deep down that something was off about the dreams.
The doors slowly opened, and she was ushered back in to the room. She hid her anxiety behind a cool expression. The importance