Everyone turned to Lamont. He gazed at Maria with his flirtatious, yet gentle, mocha eyes; his black skin shiny from the heat. “She's been here a week, amongst us, after being given the Phaser Drink and nothing?” His voice went high on the last word.
“Correct,” Maria responded in a cool voice. “Her toenails have grown out, and she hasn't been well. She goes in and out of fevers, has a strong desire for raw meat and experiences strong desires and emotions as we all do but apart from that, there's not much else I can tell you.”
“So you're saying that there's no proof she is even one of us?” Tyra pushed.
Maria didn't like the accusation in her voice- though if the shit did hit the fan Tyra was partly to blame for helping to find Jaz. Maria rolled her eyes from Lamont opposite her, to her left, locking her half-closed gaze on Tyra as if it was a huge, bothersome task. “Our proof, is that Lora wasn't 'one of us' so Jaz must be. Let's not forget however that Lora was, and Jaz is, still my granddaughter and blood.
“You are new to this Pack by seven years but Lora - and now Jaz- are more woven into it than most, by blood, so I suggest we treat my granddaughter as such.”
Tyra was about to snap back at Maria for questioning her place in the Pack but the sound of doors opening stopped her dead. Especially when she saw who came in.
A handsome, young man, in his mid-twenties strutted into the dim, black and midnight-blue room, with a smile on his face that could have melted hearts and a confident -verging on arrogant- air. He was quite small for a Were but by no means weak-looking with his muscular, slim physique, wide shoulders and very pert behind. He had the proud, confident stance of a matador. His wavy, copper, shoulder-length hair was parted in the middle and he had warm, almond-coloured eyes that were now glittering as he grinned at everyone.
“Swain,” Arik greeted halfheartedly. “Good of you to finally join us.”
Swain grinned wider and even Ice Queen Tyra felt a fluttering heat in her belly as she watched him. The other four women present, Nessa, Astrid, Signy and Saga practically swooned at the sight of him.
“Oh don't be such a grouch, Arik. It'll give you wrinkles.” He winked at the old man and Arik frowned, scanning left and right at the salivating women with displeasure.
Behind Swain followed his brother Nik; the sight of him was what had stopped Tyra from speaking out of place to Maria, but instead of lust being the reason, it was down to unwavering respect and loyalty.
He was a towering, influential presence in the room as always. Everyone stood to greet him. He eyed the room full of people with a pokerface; his deep, inset eyes missing nothing.
“Ah, Nik, we were hoping you'd have the time to join us,” Arik announced. He held out a hand and Nik sidled over towards the empty chair Arik was signalling to sit in, right by his left side on the far end of the table. Everyone swung their chairs to face him.
Swain parked himself in a chair at the other end of the table nearer the door, between Tyra and Saga -a dark-haired, curvy woman with long black hair who was the Spokesperson for Weaponry and Training Facilities. All her family had been killed years ago in the civil Pack wars; her only relation she knew of was her distant cousin Fraya, who was standing behind her. Saga's light brown eyes revealed nothing of the terrors she had witnessed in her life; they were now brightened in amusement at the presence of Swain seated next to her.
All the men in attendance were giving Swain their usual envious looks as the girls paid him full attention. Lamont was particularly peeved with the way Tyra softened when Swain was around.
Swain grinned teasingly at the French man as he sat down, then he leaned back and looked down the table at his brother. He left Lamont scowling at him for several minutes.
“We were just talking about our new arrival,” Arik began, addressing Nik.“What can you tell us?”
Nik surveyed the room, not turning his head as he did this.
Everyone waited.
“She's not happy here,” came his deep voice, expressing nothing but matter-of-fact.
Arik raised his silver brows. “Well, that's understandable. Anything else?”
Nik focused on the old man, trying to read between the lines. “Just ask me what's on your mind, Arik.” His low voice had a hold over everyone in the room. It exuded authority and none of them, not even the Head of Council, could avoid the dominance of it, especially when he told them to do something. His voice had a power over all of them. They all knew it but couldn't really explain it.
He was the Pack Leader, the alpha. And they accepted it.