Fifteen
The White Wolf ||A Paranormal Romance Novel||
Mircea
I stayed in the room, trying to get the same sense that Vali had gotten from these walls. But I couldnât feel it, couldnât smell the comfort that she had from my father. All I could feel was my anger at the situation and at myself.
How did I not know that he had a plan? How did I not know that he would have a way out of all of this? And if he had a way out of this room, what was the rest of his plan?
I thought I was going to be ready to take on my father, that going for the chance I had was going to benefit everyone. My feet froze as I touched the wine rack. What if this was what he wanted? And what did that mean for me? What if he was waiting at Bran Castle?
âAre you okay, Little Red?â
I jumped as I turned towards the voice, the White Wolf standing in the doorway with a concerned look on her face. She took a few tentative steps towards me but kept her distance.
âYeah, Iâm fine.â I said, taking my hand away from the wine rack and folding my fingers into a light fist.
âYouâre thinking about what this all means, arenât you?â She asked, as if she could read my mind. Or maybe she was smelling the stress on me. It was probably that.
âI guess you could say that.â I looked into her eyes as I spoke and almost wished that I hadnât. Her eyes were cold, somehow turning the warm dark brown into something that shook me to my core.
âYou truly had no clue?â Her voice echoed around me and through me, I felt it to my core.
âNo,â I answered. She took a few more steps towards me, tilting her head to the side. While usually the action would soften a personâs look, the head tilt seemed to make her scarier.
âWhy the fuck should I trust you?â She asked. Thatâs what this was all about?
âCould ask you the same question.â I said, she smirked, but it wasnât friendly.
âOh, Vampire King, do tell me how the ones who have been killing my kind in repeated genocide for millennia should be scared of werewolves.â She said.
âBecauseâ¦â I trailed off, wondering how to even respond. Whether I should tell her the entire truth or not. The fact of the matter was that she already had my trust, and that naivety is what got me into this mess in the first place. While I stood in silence I had expected her to interject, to argue and push me to respond. Instead she just stood, staring. I could hear her heartbeat, staying steady and calm. Could see her chest moving with each breath, slow and purposeful. âBecause you donât know how much of us there actually are.â
She continued staring at me, straightening her head as she took one more step closer to me.
âWhat does that have to do with anything?â She asked.
âBecause, there are still less vampires than there are werewolves.â I said. She snorted out a laugh. I wish there was a better way to describe the sound, but there wasnât.
âYou canât be serious-â
âPure vampires, yes, there are less of us than werewolves. Including dhampirs we are still a couple hundred or thousand off of the numbers you gave us.â I said, the weight of what I had just told her seemed to land on me then. Almost like the secret had personified next to me and punched me in the cheek.
âWhy the fuck should I believe that?â
âBecause, youâre looking for a reason to trust me. You might think thereâs a risk that I am truly working for my father, that this is the role I play in an elaborate plan to bring you down.â I said, she licked her full lips before going to speak, but I jumped in first. âMy father did ask me to make a plan for if you turned up, and I did. He didnât ask for it until after the opening meeting, I didnât give it to him. Not after you told us the truth about the Hunts, and the other races that have been killed because of them.â
âIs that supposed to make me feel better?â
âMy plan was to discredit you completely, dig up dirt, whether it was true or false, and convince the Summit Council to either remove you as leader or take away representative rights. If that didnât work, the idea was to gain your trust so I could bring you down from the inside. That plan didnât involve me taking my father off of the throne.â I said, knowing my heart rate stayed steady.
âHow do I know thatâs not a lie?â
âBecause, I have no doubt that with your wolf senses you can hear my heartbeat, my breath. Smell sweat from stress, or even just smell the deceit on someone, the fear that they will get caught. Tell me, do you think Iâm lying?â I asked, she took a second to process before shaking her head.
âIt doesnât mean I can trust you, because youâre not working for your father then you have your own agenda. I donât know what that agenda is.â She said. My thoughts immediately went to my recurring dream, of the silhouette of my mate who I only just recently found out was a wolf.
âMy agenda doesnât matter because it doesnât harm you or your kind, you wouldnât understand anyway.â
âHow do you know I wouldnât understand if you donât tell me, Little Red?â She asked, a smirk on her face. Her shoulders seemed to relax again, so maybe what I had said had made her somewhat trust me. Or at least take us back to the stage we were at before this interaction.
Which meant I would have to come up with a reason to not tell her a thing.
Perfect.