and dominating the others. Natural-born leaders from the family bloodlines emerged, accords were made, and truces were forged, albeit uneasy truces at times. Especially between Slyck, the panther guide, and Vall, the lycan guide in the Eastern Chapter.
Cats and dogs just don’t mix, but it went even deeper than that. Decades ago Vall had tried to sway Slyck’s first-in-command—his enforcer of security—to overlook his pack’s unscheduled nighttime runs. In turn Slyck’s security officer turned Vall in to the community leaders, only to end up dead a few months later. He’d left town to commute to the Western Chapter for a security meeting, and they’d later found his car wrapped around a guardrail, his head torn clear off his shoulders, ending any of the other nine lives he had left.
Although Slyck couldn’t prove it, he had always felt Vall had had some sort of involvement in the gruesome incident, which left him with a deep-seated belief that Vall had ulterior motives and always acted with his own best interests at heart, not the community’s.
Slyck had insisted Vall’s position be challenged, but the ruling didn’t go in his favor. The other Overseers sympathized with Vall and his pack, and their continual need to leash their wolf. In the end only a small reprimand had been handed down to the mongrel.
With that last thought in mind, Slyck avoided Vall’s silvery glare, stretched his long legs out in front of himself, and turned his attention to Harmony, the coven guide, who was in charge of chairing this Sunday night’s meeting, as per their assigned schedule.
Harmony was dressed in a floor-length black silk robe, with her long, thick, dark hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her violet eyes panned each council member for the briefest of seconds before she initiated the meeting. Then, for the next hour and a half, they discussed council policy, funding, agendas, policing, bylaws, and the threat of exposure from rogue members living outside their gates. Naturally, not every member of every species saw the beauty and benefits of their secret society, hence the need for the Western Chapter to set up a task force to track down and eliminate all rebels. Before the meeting came to a close, Harmony opened the floor to discuss any new business. With that opening, Slyck spoke up.
He hardened his expression and prepared for an impending confrontation with the canine. “It has been brought to my attention that a few of Vall’s pack have been running in the woods, near the perimeter.” He resisted the urge to add “again.”
A moment of silence passed as Harmony absorbed that bit of information; then, “Vall, is this correct?” she asked in her usual, patient voice.
Vall smirked at Slyck, his ruthless pewter eyes narrowing to mere slits. His stony silence spoke volumes as he threaded his beefy hands—large paws that would look at home on a Kodiak—through his long golden mane. He groomed himself with a casual nonchalance that belied his primitive temperament.
In an attempt to lighten the situation,Vall rolled one broad shoulder, gave a humorless laugh, and said easily, “It was a little harmless run. A few of the teenagers enjoying the wind in their faces.”
Slyck felt his temper flare from simmer to inferno. But since he was not a man who let emotions rule his actions, he worked to control his anger and fisted his hands beneath the table. His crescentlike claws bit into his flesh as his predatory instincts exploded like gunfire.
Slyck drilled his gaze into Vall and held his ground as he leaned forward—a battle of wills. Since Slyck wouldn’t tolerate stupidity or insubordination, he continued with his litany. “As you know, a rule is a rule, Vall. No matter how big or how small. And these rules are in place for the community’s best interest.” He shot Vall a distrustful look, the underlying message clear in his tone. It didn’t take a genius to translate the meaning of his words, only a lycan. “We all have responsibilities that we must uphold. If we don’t, our community will collapse around us,” he added. “You know it, and I know it.”
“No harm was done, Slyck,” he barked out, undaunted. “If your little kitties hadn’t—”
Slyck unfurled his fingers and cut him off, refusing to tolerate his juvenile conduct. “Since I’m chief of security, it’s their job to report to me.” Slyck turned the conversation back onto Vall and his irreverent behavior, refusing to let him sidetrack the council, a technique the mongrel had skillfully mastered over