“We haven’t gone into direct conflict with Queen Blatand of Hecate since the Penicuik Wars that split apart the Midlothian Council,” the second advisor said in a distraught murmur.

“If her attack came from the core of her power base, then we would have to capture and behead her top advisors to still this Unseelie magick, and even if we knew they were guilty as sin-it’s much easier to locate the actual sigils and undo the black spell than to capture and un-glamour members of that powerful group to behead them. By rights, there should be a trial… and evidence presented, she will argue… and then if they are found guilty, the treason charge could be levied and their magick bled away from them. But that is their game. There isn’t time for a trial.”

“And it sounds like there also isn’t time for us to find the locations of all these sigils that are tainting our etheric selves,” Hunter said in a low, growling tone.

“Under the circumstances,” Shogun said, rubbing the nape of his neck, “it seems a lot easier to go to war than to try to find a needle in a haystack.”

Sir Rodney stretched tension out of his back as he walked around the room. “What did the property investigation show? Who might have been angry that their inheritance went to McGregor?”

“A name came up from our property search as you requested… Kiagehul would have stood to gain much, milord,” the senior advisor said quietly.

“Kiagehul? Cousin of Enoksen and Elder Futhark?” Sir Rodney stopped pacing, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “Enoksen and Elder Futhark are her top advisors… Even if we go after his magick by just finding that little weasel, it will incline her to war once she listens to them.”

“Has anyone seen this man-do we know how to spot him?”

“No, milord,” the eldest advisor said. “His identity is shrouded… but we have our investigators working on this as we speak.”

“Then war it is,” Sasha said. “We cannot have two major Wolf Federations go down, along with innocent humans on my squad and the Seelie nations in the Americas, because some little bastard got greedy and thought he could get away with murder because the Vampires and some rogue wolves had his back. The queen will have to get over it.”

Sir Rodney just stared at Sasha for a moment.

“The queen doesn’t get over anything, milady,” the lead advisor warned.

“How well do you know the queen and her capabilities?” Hunter asked, turning his attention to Sir Rodney.

“Do you know this enemy well?” Shogun asked, growing impatient. “We could capture this Kiagehul and interrogate him in a way that would make him understand the need to cooperate.”

“A manhunt could take who knows how long… Plus he could be holed up in Vampire turf or in hiding. If Unseelie magick is behind all this, we send a message to the queen to tell her to call her man back. If she isn’t an accomplice to it, and doesn’t want to start a war, she will. If she’s too arrogant or is somehow involved, then we do this thing.” Sasha walked back and forth, feeling trapped. “But Sir Rodney is right, guys. We have to lift the spell off the Seelie Fae and this fortress so we have a strong offensive, plus a solid fallback position. We’ve gotta get the rest of our team behind these walls tomorrow.”

“Then let’s get back to the question that Shogun and I asked, because it is important to know the enemy before deploying a tactic that could backfire.” Hunter leaned on the table, looking across it at Sir Rodney. “Do you know this queen well enough to negotiate with her?”

Everyone that had been seated around the table was now on their feet.

“Yes, I know her bleedin’ well enough-and am all too familiar with the full extent of her wrath, which is how I wound up in the Americas and not in the Bonnie Isles,” Sir Rodney said, rubbing his palms down his face. “She’s me ex-wife. A show of force is the only thing she bloody well understands.”

CHAPTER 18

“Rupert, please show the lady to her room,” Sir Rodney said as casually as possible, eyeing both male wolves. When Hunter cocked his head to the side, Sir Rodney kept his tone even and calm. “We have all been under an inordinate amount of strain. The morrow brings a major campaign. We cannot afford to have anything rip our alliance to shreds. A good night’s sleep would serve us all well.”

“Safe haven,” Sasha said quietly after a moment. She stared at Hunter until his hardened gaze lost some of its resistance. “Good night.” She nodded at both Hunter and Shogun, in the proper order, and then bid Sir Rodney good night. Her eyes said thank you as she turned to follow Rupert down the long corridor that led to an entirely separate wing of the castle. The Seelie Fae were such diplomats; it was a shame that their peaceful way of life was probably going to devolve into an all-out war.

For now, though, her being in her own suite alone was the only way, the only thing that made sense. Who knew when irrational possessiveness would return, and none of them could afford that level of drama right now. At the moment, she was so exhausted, if she didn’t lie down, she would fall down-and if any male, wolf or not, tried to put his hands on her, she’d definitely have to kill him where he stood. More to the point, she needed every ounce of brainpower to noodle the problem of what to do about the individual spells that could make them all self-destruct.

Rupert stopped in front of a massive door, bowed, and then stepped before her to open it in a grand, sweeping gesture. “If it please milady?” he asked in an ebullient tone, his eyes expectant.

“Wow…” Sasha murmured. She didn’t move, just gaped for a moment as she took it all in.

Everything was white on white on white and twinkling with Faerie dust sparkles. Tall white candles sputtered with iridescent flames, and a perfect wash of blue-white moonlight spilled across the bed and floor. A series of thick white alpaca rugs dotted the polished stone floor. It seemed as though, for all that was lost in the rest of the castle and village in terms of bewitching, nothing was spared on making her room spectacular.

There was no getting used to Fae surprises, no matter how much she tried. As silly as it was, for a moment she felt like a princess, and almost looked down to see if her mud-crusted boots had somehow turned into glass slippers. Now, as she stared at what lay before her, she felt too dirty to even walk into the pristine space Rupert offered. The wolf life pretty much followed natural law, but the Fae had a way of turning even the most basic of life’s accoutrements into a wonderland.

An ornate, four-poster bed was positioned against the far wall, draped in gossamer sheers. White satin pillows littered a thick duvet. Behind an opaque screen that was partially open, she could see the edge of a white porcelain claw-footed tub. Her gaze quickly took in the antique white vanity loaded with every conceivable potion and lotion a woman could dream of, down to a sterling comb-and-brush set.

Sprays of white roses in delicately etched crystal vases were everywhere-on the vanity, on the bedside tables, on the dining area table, and two bookended the fireplace mantel.

Lush white-on-white satin overstuffed chairs and a love seat were scattered about. An antique white armoire stood against the wall flanking the bed. Closer to what seemed like the outer, less personal space of the grand suite was a table set for two, complete with a silver-domed tray and slim, elegant silver chalices.

“I literally don’t know what to say.” Sasha turned to Rupert, who seemed pleased by her admission. Yet, with the obvious strain on castle resources, a twinge of guilt and worry niggled her.

“Shall I draw the lady a bath?”

How could she say no? Sasha hesitated and then looked down at her clothes for a second.

“The closet is full, milady.” Rupert waved his arm, not entering her room and keeping a dignified distance from her. “Everything here has been attuned to your total comfort. Just ask and it is so. Your soiled clothes and boots can be left in the white hamper by the armoire and within an hour you can retrieve them folded and laundered, your boots polished, as though new.”

Sasha looked over her shoulder quickly as she heard the sound of bathwater filling the tub. She could only imagine how her guys were taking all of this. Woods and Fisher probably had tears of joy in their eyes. She just hoped the alphas weren’t affronted by this extraordinary display of Fae male prowess. Wolves did the strong sexy thing; the Fae did the smooth sexy magick thing-but regardless of species, a male display was a male display, peacock-plume spread or rhino head butt, it was what it was.

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