Rory
Zephyr was silent the entire walk back to the pack.
He listened as I repeated over and over, what the plan was. He hadn't looked at me again, his silver eyes scanning every inch of ground we covered, like he kept expecting the world to change.
"You are Darren Snow," I repeated in hushed whispers, though the guards were several feet behind us at Zephyr's orders. "Your father was Julian Snow. His mother, your grandmother was a slave and your grandfather was Alpha Marcus Kane."
Zephyr stiffened. "A Snow would never dirty their blood with the line of Kanes."
My lips pursed. "Well, you're not exactly wrong. The history is quite… complicated. Hilda, Darren's grandmother, was a bed slave who fell in love with a stable hand, another slave, who was Alpha blooded, and they had a son. Julian. Marcus Kane, who had an eye for Hilda, didn't like this very much. He had the stablehand killed and he took Hilda to his bed by force, and she gave him a son. Vaughan Kane."
Zephyr's face twisted into one of disgust, but he let me continue.
"Marcus's way of tormenting Hilda was by torturing Julian. He beat him constantly, and made Vaughan do it too. They were half brothers, but they despised each other. Vaughan was Alpha Marcus's heir which made him the next Alpha, but on the day of the succession, Julian, with his pent up rage, challenged Vaughan to a duel. He beat him, and by pack rules, it made Julian, son of slaves, the next Alpha.
"Many thought he wouldn't be accepted, but the Kanes were cruel and Julian was not. He was accepted and loved, and even managed to marry an Alpha's daughter, enriching the pack, and they had a son, Darren. But history does have a way of repeating itself. Vaughan had Julian ambushed and killed and took his wife, Gianna, for himself. Asher was born from that union. Gianna loved Darren, but hated Asher, as he was born out of rape. This, I imagine, began the hatred that has led to history, repeating itself once again, with Asher killing Darren to take his place. And his fiancée. Your fiancée now."
I stole a glance at him. "It is important that you remember all of this, Zephyr. Gianna is very much alive, and it is also, very important, that you convince her that you are her dead son."
He cut me a hard look. "That is a rather cruel thing to do to a grieving mother."
I nodded, guilt cramping my stomach. "I know, but if you do not, we're both going to die. And you will never return home."
That seemed to be enough incentive because he fell silent and listened as I mapped out the most important details that would help us pull through tonight.
Like what he called his mother. How he liked his tea. How he addressed everyone else. The members of the Council and what they looked like.
"Finally, we need to work on your speech."
He was glaring at me. "Nothing plagues my speech, lass."
"No one calls women lasses anymore. At least, Darren didn't. And the archaic English. We'll work on that later, but right now, we'll work on your address to the Council."
He was scowling, but he nodded. "Very well."
***
The first to scream was the Head Maid, Lilian. And then, it went on, like a little musical concert on who could reach the highest pitch yet. If I wasn't so afraid of what awaited us in the hall ahead, I might have found it all hilarious.
By the time we reached the halls where the succession was being held, there was a ruckus.
Zephyr walked through all of it without breaking stride.
I stayed half a step behind him with Beta Ansel and the guards leading the way. I couldn't help but watch his powerful saunter, the sureness with each walk.
This might not have been his pack, but he was unmistakably The Alpha. No one could've mistaken him for anything else. He glanced at the commotion like it was beneath him and when everyone began bowing, he didn't acknowledge it.
No. He didn't act like an Alpha. He acted like a lion in his pride.
The hair on my skin rose as we finally reached the double doors of the Grand Hall and the guards rushed forward to push them open.
The succession was nearly completed. Asher stood at the altar, dressed in the red and black ceremonial robes. He looked dashing, and I hated that a part of me still felt something to that effect.
Claire stood a step behind him, her face arranged with exquisite grief that she must have taken all day to practice. I realized then that he was probably going to name her his Luna too.
Elder Alden's voice carried through the hall in the final stages of the ceremony, with the priest about to mark Asher's forehead with the blood of the previous Alpha. "By the Goddess's blessings, we name you–"
"Wait!" Beta Ansel shouted.
The filled hall of guests glanced our way.
The succession is usually an extravagant affair. There were more than five hundred guests in the hall. Watching them all process, with different levels of speed, who precisely they were looking at, was an experience I wouldn't forget anytime soon.
A glass of champagne hit the marble floor and exploded.
The Elder's voice died in his throat.
Claire's blue eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth as she screamed, horrified, stumbling into Asher.
Zephyr walked ahead, the crowd parting for him so swiftly, you would've thought he had a viral disease. He glanced from face to face with unflinching intensity, watching them scramble to get out of the way.
Asher's expression was the same as always. Empty. For about three seconds.
Before I saw the crack in the facade, the undiluted fear that leaped into his gaze. "What is the meaning of this?" his voice echoed throughout the hall harshly.
Zephyr finally halted. "I would've thought you of all people would be happy to see me, brother."
Asher faltered a step. "My brother is dead–"
"Hardly," Zephyr countered dryly. "I am standing here alive, after all." He clasped his fingers behind his back, glancing pointedly at Claire. "I was hoping you would mourn me a little longer before you tried to steal my bride. Though, I can't say I'm surprised. It does run in the blood."