“What do you want me to say?” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.
“I want to know about his pack. How many are there? Where are they? Sharing such information will prevent things from getting unpleasant.” He paused. “We call them the False Wolves. Did you know that?”
She shook her head, considering all the ways “unpleasant” could be translated.
“They shouldn’t exist.” He ran his finger across his lower lip, his attention wandering to her mouth. “Do you believe in accidents, Miss Talbot? Or are you one who subscribes to a higher plan? Destiny. Fate. That sort of thing?”
“I’m not sure.” Her answer was soft, uncertain.
“I am the latter. You live as long as I have, and you see it plainly enough. Accidents don’t exist. And Mr. Dean’s transformation means something. Do you know what it means?” he asked, leaning forward.
She shook her head, fighting the urge to recoil.
“It’s a test. To see who’s stronger. Who’s meant to survive and rule.” He sat back, shrugging. “It’s my job to adapt. I’ve had years of practice, Miss Talbot. Years and years. Your mate is a pup in comparison. A pup I will annihilate.”
“What about the bone?” she asked, remembering Hollis’s theory. The bone might threaten Cyrus’s place as alpha—and his pack. Did it make Finn their leader? She broke off, watching Cyrus’s eyes narrow, his lips press tight.
“What about it, Miss Talbot?” He stood, pushing the chair in.
She stared up at him, terrified.
“Please, continue.” He paused, his hands clasped behind his back. “And spare no detail, I implore you.”
Cyrus had to suspect something, or he’d have killed Finn by now—or tried to. At this point, there was nothing left for her to lose. He would kill her. He’d told her as much. She had no experience with head games or manipulating emotions, but she’d try. Her future wasn’t looking too bright, but that didn’t have to apply to the rest of her pack.
“It’s old,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Older than you.”
Cyrus’s nostrils flared.
“It’s what turned Finn, infected him. Doesn’t that make him your ancestor?” Her voice was quavering, but there was no help for that. She pushed on, watching him carefully. “Killing him risks your life, right? And your status as alpha to your pack?”
He stared at her, the muscle in his jaw ticking.
“Is that what you mean?”
He smiled at her. “Your loyalty is admirable, truly. But tell me, Miss Talbot, what will you do when he’s tired of you? No wolf stays bonded to a human. It’s not a true bond unless it’s with another wolf. Didn’t he tell you?” He paused, his mock sympathy cutting deep. “You’ll go on loving him while he moves on to one of his own kind.”
She swallowed, refusing to believe him. Finn loved her—he’d chosen her. He was the one that warned her he’d never let her go. Her hand fell to her stomach, covering the scar. And now, their baby. “He is mine. And I am his.”
Cyrus chuckled, surprised. “You believe that?”
She nodded. “I know it.”
“Has he offered to turn you?” he asked. He waited, almost eagerly, for her response.
She kept her silence. They’d never discussed it.
“No? That’s unfortunate, isn’t it? Considering you won’t survive this pregnancy. No human has,” he said. “Cara didn’t, poor thing. I’m sorry Miss Talbot.” He eyed her stomach. “Perhaps there’s no point in waiting? Perhaps he’s already moved on. He has one pup, already. I can’t imagine he’s eager for another one so soon.”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t trust her words not to reveal her agitation. A reaction she knew he’d enjoy.
“I’ll have to think about that,” he said, opening the door. “For now, there’s someone who’d like to see you.”
Thomas stepped inside, his nervous gaze darting between Jessa and Cyrus.
“Do not touch her,” Cyrus commanded before he left, the door remaining slightly ajar.
“What do you want?” she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. “What did you do to my brother?”