Chapter 88: Recruitment officer

Chapter 88Cameron My little escape from the city—our secluded house in the woods—was supposed to be for me and Lenora. Just us. Just the woods. And a lot of sex. (Not that we don’t have sex everywhere else, but here it’s supposed to feel private.) Unfortunately, it’s packed with extra people now. I exhale and glance around the living room. Lenora sits quietly next to me, her silver hair glowing in the firelight, watching, waiting. Simone is perched at the table flipping through Nana’s old spellbook like she’s reading a fashion magazine. Ronan slouches by the window, pretending he’s not invested. Across from me are the White Stone envoys: Torren, Flint, and Mr. Clay. "So you want me to what?" I ask flatly. "Go over there, challenge him to a fight, and win? That’s it? And bam, I’m alpha?" Torren, the older of the two wolves, nods. "Yes. It’s tradition. It’s something even Alric can’t deny or refuse." I arch an eyebrow. "What an odd law. What if some meathead with zero brain cells challenges for leadership? Does everyone just... suffer?" Lenora snorts under her breath. "That is the case in most packs, unfortunately." I tilt my head. "What an odd law. What if some muscle-bound idiot with zero brain cells takes over? Then what? Does everyone just suffer?" Lenora snorts for the first time since they arrived. "That’s the case in most packs, unfortunately. White Stone isn’t unique." Great. I imagine a world full of packs run by guys like that, I’m glad White Stone is isolated, though that can’t be a good thing now, because of its isolation, things have gotten this bad. Lenora is still quiet otherwise, watching me. Her emotions are a storm: fear, anger, reluctant hope. I know going back home is complicated for her. She misses it. She hates it. She loves it. And most of all, she never wanted me dragged into it. I sigh. "Okay, fine." The relief that ripples through the room is palpable. Shoulders sag. Mr. Clay lets out an audible breath. Even Ronan glances over like he didn’t expect me to agree. "You are my mate’s family," I continue. "That makes you my family." Did they honestly think I’d say no? Sure, I can be ruthless—cutthroat even—but this is Lenora’s home. She’s my mate. She supports me; the least I can do is support her. If I refused, that weight would hang over us for the rest of our lives. There was only ever one answer. "Okay, so brother-in-law about your will," Ronan says suddenly. "Ronan!" Lenora and Simone snap at the same time. They drag him out by the ears. His protests trail down the hall. I can’t help but laugh. When the door shuts, I’m left alone with the White Stone envoys. "Thank you," Torren says, his voice quiet but full of relief. "You have no idea what this means to us." "Truly," Mr. Clay echoes, eyes glassy. I wave them off. "Get some rest. We leave soon." I cock a brow. "The others I understand. But Elder Stellan?" I mean I did give him, quite the hefty bribe. Flint exhales slowly, like the weight of the world sits on his back. "Once the treasury was drained, my father had some money hidden. The plan was to use it to escape—make a life outside White Stone." I shrug, honestly I can’t judge that choice. "After that, the little money still circulating got bled out to other departments—patchwork payments, trying to keep basic operations going." He shakes his head. "When that ran dry, they started selling equipment. The new machinery for the butchery? Gone. The hospital’s medical gear? Sold. Anything of value got stripped. By then, White Stone had nothing left." I feel my jaw clench. Savage Claws have been there for months, and that all adds up to over half a million in cash and goods stolen. "A month ago, things hit zero," Flint continues. "That’s when Savage Claws changed the deal. They started demanding a different kind of payment." He pauses, fists tight. "Our women." The blood in my veins runs cold. "Yeah," he says, reading my expression. "We were forced to give them up. I have a younger sister—she’s seventeen. That couldn’t happen." "I’m sorry," I say, and the words feel inadequate. He exhales slowly. "That’s when my father finally pulled out his hidden stash. The emergency fund he’d been keeping quiet for our escape plan. We thought we’d use it to get out and start fresh somewhere else. But we didn’t have a choice. It’s gone now too." "I’m sorry," I say, and it feels paper-thin against what he’s carrying. He draws a breath. "Honestly? If not for what you left before... White Stonewouldn’t have lasted as long as it has." I hadn’t expected that. I shift, uncomfortable with the gratitude. He looks up, meeting my gaze with startling frankness. "You don’t have to do this, you know." I arch a brow. "I don’t see how this benefits you," he adds with a shrug. "And your family? The rest of White Stone?" He gives a humorless laugh. "Since I’m here, I’d have found a way to get my family out. That’s all that matters." "I thought wolves were supposed to be pack-minded. Loyal. Community-oriented." "Sure," he says. "But I’m as much human as wolf. And what are humans if not selfish? Survival comes first." Something in me sparks. Ruthless honesty. I can work with that.There it is in his eyes clear eyes, cold math, but not rotten. Useful. I walk toward him, rest a hand on his shoulder. "Flint Stellan, what do you think about money?" He blinks, wary. "How much money are we talking?" My grin spreads slow and sharp. "Let’s discuss. What’s your education? Actually, never mind. We can enroll you in some classes. Ever considered business?" He huffs a laugh. "Not until right now." Adrian is going to hate me for poaching this kid from the universe. Perfect edge of ruthless without being heartless. Cunning. Hungry. "Come let’s have a conversation..." *** Lenora From across the room, I watch Cameron with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Through the bond earlier, I’d felt dread and sadness churning inside him. Now? Excitement. He’s practically buzzing with it. He’s leaning over Flint like a recruiter about to steal the draft pick of the year. His hand rests firm on Flint’s shoulder as he leads him into the study, murmuring about money and education. I don’t know what he’s scheming, but he’s happy. And that alone lifts something heavy off my chest.