Bitterness Between Brothers

ELRETH

Lhern's gaze had turned calculating. Elreth forced herself to hold it without expression, as if she waited patiently, with no real emotional investment in what his answer would be.

"We do not speak of the disformed because we do not view the conflicts over them as a risk to security, only a disruption to our lives."

"Is that right?" Elreth said flatly. "You don't consider fighting between tribes an issue that runs deeper than lifestyle?"

"Not yet. There was a single incident, only a handful of Anima involved. And it was addressed by your father—"

"That handful of fighters were drawn across tribal lines. It was serious enough for my father to consider isolating the disformed into their own people group, and serious enough to me that I challenged him for dominance over it," she said, her teeth snapping closed over the last line. Then she leaned forward slightly, holding Lhern's wary gaze. "If you believe that I sought this position at this time, or had ambitions for it, that my challenge was not directly associated with the current conflicts with the disformed, you are sadly mistaken. There is, in my mind, no greater threat to our way of life than the attitudes held among our people for this portion of our society. And I will not allow it to continue. Period."

They all stared at her, their facades of patronizing compliance gone. She was being regarded by every male with a mix of either admiration, or outright defiance. She made a mental note of those who smiled at their brethren—and those that looked like they wanted to bite something.

She would find a way to make life too uncomfortable for any leaders that held these old views, to remove them from their positions of influence. But then her father's voice echoed in her head. "Choose your battles wisely, and choose them in the right order. Do not convince yourself that fighting on two fronts will not weaken you. And do not believe a distant enemy must be called in as soon as they're identified. Let them bring the battle to you—and prepare yourself until they do so you are even more formidable."

Stifling a smile at her father's wisdom, Elreth returned her attention to the battle at hand.

"The disformed are now a full fifth of our population and they are growing. They breed more successfully, and show untapped strengths that I want to make use of. But in order to do that, I'll need to bring a greater unity between them and the rest of the Anima. Your help is wanted—needed for this task. Your wisdom and strength are assets I wish to make use of. But I will move ahead without you if that is what is needed to prove to you that we have ignored a vital and powerful portion of our people."

Lhern pursed his lips. "No one on this council doubts that there are aspects to the disformed that we have… overlooked. If you have information we have not received, we would like to hear it."

"Very good. Then, why don't we start again? And this time, you explain to me who was fighting, what the catalyst was, and how it has been addressed so far. Then I'll share with you what I know to be happening within the disformed and their families. And we can begin working on our strategy from this point forward."

Lhern's jaw rolled, but he nodded. "Very well."

*****

AARYN

Aaryn stared his second down. Whatever was on Garthe's mind, they'd clearly all been discussing it before he arrived, because the others were all staring at Garthe as if he would speak for them.

Garthe didn't shy away. "Two nights ago you chose Elreth over us—when you don't even know if she'll take you."

Aaryn wanted to bite something. "I chose my own sanity—and the good of the Kingdom—over taking power for myself."

"What about taking power for us? What about taking power for the good you could do?"

"Elreth will do that for us, you don't need me—"

"Bullshit, Aaryn! The opportunity you had to make real change—to let those shifting motherfuckers see that we are not incapable, or untrustworthy—I can't believe we're even discussing this! You could have changed our lives!"

"And cut myself off forever from my mate! I can't believe we're discussing this either. I would never ask any of you to—"

"We're taking your word that she's the one. But there's no signs, Aaryn. Your scents never mingle. And she shows preference for another male. Not to mention that now that she's Queen, she'll be pressured to mate within the Pride. How long will you wait, brother? At what point will you look back and regret what you didn't do for us while you were pining for her?"

"Never!" Aaryn snarled, stepping right up to Garthe's toes and making himself as big as he was capable of. "And the day you meet your true mate I'll accept your apology."

A dark, ominous growl puttered in Garthe's throat and Aaryn held himself still, using his greater height to stand over the leonine. He'd been alpha in this pack for two years and he wasn't giving in to his Second over a dose of misplaced guilt.

"Maybe she isn't your true mate," Garthe growled. "Maybe you only became Alpha because we were as blinded by the royal shine as you are. And maybe that's wearing off, now."

Aaryn let the growl roll in his throat. He'd expected hard questions this morning. Disapproval. Even censure. He hadn't expected to defend his position in the pack.

With a prayer sent skyward, he let himself smile the smile of the hunt and murmured to Garthe, "If you want me to hand your ass to you in front of the pack, go ahead and take your shot, Garthe. I will still call you brother at the end. I can't make promises for the others, though."

There was a crystalline moment where no one breathed. Then, in the way of the Pride, Garthe leapt for him without a sound.