Ava made no damn fucking sense. Shy. Skittish. Flying around like a goddamn ninja, faster than anyone he’d ever seen until today.

Which was hot. Very, very hot. And reassuring, too; he hadn’t quite known what to do with that precious girl who looked like she might break. Turns out, she might be the one breaking him. With her little finger. Wearing a blindfold.

And, by the gods, her lips. Her soft, soft lips. What he would have given for another taste just then. But he knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself if he’d given in, even just a little more, and they had issues to deal with right now. Like the weird-ass, Earl-Grey-tea- drinking wolf in their living room.

Knox sat in Rye’s armchair, like he’d instantly known that it was the Alpha’s place. He looked goddamn satisfied, as the females in the pride rushed around to serve him. Ace brought him his tea, and Clari offered him a cupcake.

He stared at the plate with some amusement before taking it.

“Why, thank you, Clarissa. I do have a sweet tooth, actually. Although it’s a secret I generally keep close to my chest.”

The perfectly happily mated Beta female blushed, making Daunte groan.

“Leave my poor pridemates alone, Knox,” Ace admonished him, rolling her eyes. “You have enough females half in love with you across the globe already.”

“Never,” he replied. Then his easy smile disappeared, and his eyes flashed with something that made Coveney stop walking towards him and glance at Ava, ensuring she was at his side. “Now, I’ve wondered what would have you summon me here after your little bird chirped about all my secrets. So I looked into it. The slaughter of Dale.”

His eyes burned holes at Ava.

“You need me to stop them hunting you,” he stated.

Coveney tensed, wishing he could do something other than stand there. But Rye and Ace, the most dominant people he knew, seemed to be just as powerless. Both had moved to help Ava earlier; neither had made it to her before the wolf. Or before she could save her own ass.

“You need me to talk about the First lines.”

“I don’t know if it’s true…”

“Yet you crossed half a world in the hope it may be.”

Knox wasn’t giving an inch. Another woman might have asked, or even begged, but Ava just stared at him, somehow knowing he’d already made his decision. He just seemed to enjoy making people squirm.

“Do you know what they did to me in Rome, little bird? Do you know I was tied up day and night? I pissed and shat in the corner of a small room. I think, over the ten years they had me, that corner was never cleaned. My wolf became feral. The only thing that kept us together was the fact that my human half was just as wild by that point. But I had to live.”

“Your blood isn’t your own,” Ava said, amusing him.

“Quite. That was my saying. I heard you’ve made it your family motto. The Flavian always had good taste.”

“So, it’s true. If you died…”

“Every single werewolf on earth dies with me. Just as every eagle will, when you and this brother of yours meet your fate. Unless I talk.”

It was obvious to Coveney than he had no intention to, not without a price, anyway. He was just taunting them.

“Knox, you’re not that much of an asshole,” Ace told him, making him chuckle.

“Oh, I am. I’d love nothing more than to see her kind disappear. I’d cheer as the eagles fell and drink to their enemies’ health.” After a beat, he added, “If I could afford to.”

Coveney frowned, not sure what he meant.

“What you’re not questioning is: what makes a group of people so willing to try out a theory that may very well mean their own doom?” he rolled his eyes. “Your enemies were manipulated. By someone who either wanted to confirm the importance of the First lines, or by someone who needed agles out of the way. Most probably both.”

Shit, that made sense. Eagles were the most powerful allies of the shifter council, after all.

“The shifter council has plenty of enemies. Hell, yesterday, we figured amongst those. It makes sense.”

“Certainly.” Then, like it was common knowledge, he added, “I founded the council. Its primary objective was to locate, and protect, every First line of our kind. Should the council fall, we’d all be at risk. Now, who do you think could possibly want to endanger every shifter in the entire world, hm?”

Fuck.

“Regulars.”

It had been decades since the sups had come out of the closet, but the reaction of regular humans had been to attack, right away. The vampires subdued them with ease, everyone knew that. Later, when other races had come out of the closet, they’d all seen hate groups rise, ganging up against the sups they could find.

The fanatics were rarely successful in their attempts to harm any of them; even the weakest, most submissive of shifters were stronger than most regulars. Witches, vampires, and the others could also take care of themselves.

But there were plenty of haters, they all knew that. That was why so many shifters never left their prides or packs; not wanting to deal with them. The regular human laws, drafted by the vampires who let them govern themselves, made it clear that shifters and other sups didn’t answer to their laws. At least, as long as they didn’t interfere with a regular. When a sup had to protect himself against normal humans, it often resulted in blood, and even when it was self-defense, the regulars came down on them, hard.

The whole dynamic was quite toxic, and everyone knew something needed to give. They talked about just being patient, showing the regulars they weren’t monsters. Still, decades had passed without changing a thing, except in places like Lakesides.

If Knox was right, and regulars were behind what had occurred in Dale, there would never be peace. They’d all but declared war against their whole kind.

“Most regulars are indifferent to us; some may even like us. But there are others - not just the haters. Those who are simply resigned that we’re stronger than them. If they saw a weakness, they’d pounce. Now, tell them that killing a few dozen of us is enough to rid the world of shifters…”

“We’d be royally fucked. All of us.”

Perfect. Their day was just getting better and better.

“I may be mistaken,” the wolf admitted. “But, regardless, the little bird will live.”