Heir of the Coven (Daughters of the Warlock 3) - Page 66

Um...

I cleared my throat and looked away, covering my face with my hand so I wouldn’t see anything I probably shouldn’t. Although, I was curious....

“You’re the High Warlock,” said the man at the front of us. He was older that the men flanking him, obviously a beta or second in charge. His eyes narrowed at us, taking us in. He was probably trying to see if we were a threat, if we were planning something.

He had long black hair and a body built for speed and stealth, lightly padded in muscle, but his ribs stuck out on both sides. I wasn’t expecting that. I expected corded muscles, domineering brutal strength radiating off him in waves.

I frowned as I examined him and the men immediately in front of me.

He’s not eating enough. I looked to each one. None of them are.

I glanced around, assessing the health of the whole pack, and trying not to look at the long, hanging flesh between their legs. Which was difficult when I’d only seen one naked man before.

Stupid morbid curiosity.

None of them seemed perturbed by their nakedness. They stood, their shoulders rolled back, pride simmering from them. Their gazes all mirrored the beta, suspicious and wary.

I flicked my gaze back to the man speaking before us. He was fleshier than the average around us, but that wasn’t a good thing.

None of them are very well.

My father stepped forward.

“Yes. I am.” He still held up one hand while he gestured with the other, trying to ensure that the wolves understood we meant them no harm. “And this is Tavlor, my bodyguard.” He gestured to where my lover stood, then to me. “And my daughter, Ava.”

The man at the front of the pack raised his eyebrows.

“Your daughter?” he asked. “Since when do you have an heir?”

I pressed my lips together to stop myself from laughing. I liked how forth right these people were. They didn’t care that Matlock was a High Warlock. They cared about the truth and they had no qualms about calling out anything that didn’t add up.

“Ah, well...” my father began but then stopped, as though he was at a loss for words.

I wasn’t. I stood next to my father so they had a clear view of me. For some reason, I had no compulsion of hiding away.

“I’m illegitimate,” I explained. “The product of an affair my father had before he was forced into an arranged marriage by the Council.”

There was a strange grumble around us, of approval or anger, I wasn’t quite sure. But the sounds weren’t aggressive. If anything, they were surprised and a bit curious as though how such a thing was possible, especially since it went against the Council’s precious rules.

Then the man at the head of the pack smiled, in a strangely authentic way.

“Nice to know Warlocks are men too,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. If only he knew.

“Definitely. Can we go see your Alpha now, please?” Even I could hear the snap of annoyance in my tone, but there was no correcting it now. I should have added that we were on a time crunch and I was cold, but I thought they wouldn’t particularly care. They might even see it as complaining.

The pack leader stared at me for long moments, then nodded. “Come with us.”

The pack turned and began to walk, so we followed the large group of men. The whole time, I kept my eyes above, trying to scan the horizon. Anywhere but on them and their nakedness. Despite my confidence on speaking to them, I wasn’t sure how I felt about being surrounded by naked men.

They led us to a small, squalid town.

Oh. My. God. Was this how all shifters lived?

I’d thought the Fae Kingdom was in disarray. But this... this... town wasn’t fit for people to live in. The smell... god, the smell of human waste was pungent in the air. The children were mostly naked, running in the streets despite the cold. And the houses...

God... they weren’t houses. They were pieces of tin and some sticks holding them up.

Tags: Amelia Shaw Daughters of the Warlock Paranormal
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