Chapter 12: The Packs Come

The elders of the three packs waited in the Hall of Banners, and they did not rise when Lucas came in.

There were nine of them, three for each pack, grey-haired and hard-eyed, in the old furs of their lines.

Troy, Felix and Julius walked in beside Lucas, close enough that their sleeves brushed his.

Nobody had told them to stand there.

"Prime Troy," said the eldest woman of Genesis. She had a creased face and a rasping voice.

"We have heard a rumour."

"It is not a rumour," said Troy. "It is true."

A hiss went around the room.

"Then you are unfit," said the one-eyed elder of Apocalypse, flatly.

"An alpha who carries is no leader. He is a vessel, and a vessel does not command a pack."

"It is the law of the first moon," said the grey elder of Optimus.

"An alpha carrying young cannot lead. We will name our seconds in your place, and you will be kept in the palace until the pups come."

Felix's face went very cold.

Julius moved half a step forward, and the one-eyed elder met his eyes without flinching.

"We do not do this out of spite, Prime," she said. "We do it for the packs."

"And for this one," added the Genesis woman, jerking her chin at Lucas. "This omega who has bewitched you."

It was an old trick, and a clumsy one.

The elders were not sure of themselves.

They were frightened, and they were looking for a name to hang their fear on.

Lucas stepped forward.

He felt Troy's hand come up at his back, warm and solid, and settle between his shoulder blades.

He felt Felix's fingers close around his own.

It was strange to be held up from three sides.

He had never been held up by anyone, in either of his lives.

"Ladies and lords," he said. "May I ask you something?"

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