Freyr's POV
Tranquility.
That was the only way to describe what the Shifter's scent and blood gave me. It was an unexplainable calm, a tether to a simpler, primal existence that I could neither resist nor deny. I roamed around Hank Island, tracing circles in the paths he had walked.
Yes, I knew I was being creepy. Stalking the ghost of someone who had long since faded into the mists of memory wasn't exactly dignified. But I couldn't help it.
By the time I returned to Paradise Coven, the tranquility had all but evaporated, replaced by the dull hum of reality. Ignoring the guards stationed outside my house, I pushed past them, their presence an unwelcome reminder of Lord Marcel's overbearing influence. They bowed low as I approached, their submission grating on my nerves.
I made it as far as the doorstep before one of them, a younger one with barely enough sense to fear me, spoke up. "Lord Marcel has demanded your presence," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The word demanded echoed in my mind, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I froze, turning slowly to meet his gaze. He had already lowered his eyes in submission as if sensing the storm brewing within me.
I hissed sharply, the sound cutting through the tension like a blade. All of them instinctively took a step back. "Go back to him and tell him I am tired. I will visit him tomorrow." My voice was calm, cold, and final.
But the young guard didn't back down completely. "My lord," he began hesitantly, "Lord Marcel said if we did not return with you, he would have us all beheaded."
My jaw clenched, and I could feel my teeth grinding against one another. Anger sipped through my veins like a slow, venomous drip. Of course, Marcel would threaten his guards. Of course, he would make them pawns in this twisted game of control.
I closed my eyes, taking a moment to steel myself. My hand brushed against the doorframe, the fleeting thought of slamming it shut on their faces tempting me more than it should. But I knew better. Marcel wouldn't stop there.
With a resigned sigh, I turned on my heel, my boots scraping against the stone. Without a word, I left the sanctuary of my home behind and began the long walk toward the Paradise Coven Council offices.
Lord Marcel was already waiting when I arrived, his presence palpable even before I stepped into the office. Through the heavy wooden doors, I could hear the rhythmic creak of floorboards beneath his pacing steps. The moment I entered, his movement halted, and all eyes turned toward me.
He stood at the center, his lips curling into a grin that sent a chill crawling up my spine. Cassius Marcel, the Deputy Leader of the Paradise Coven, was seated to his left, his expression carefully neutral but his eyes betraying a flicker of disdain. Harold Tio, the Coven's Enforcer, loomed by the window, his arms crossed, his glare as hard as the stone walls around us. Idris Marcel, the General of the Coven, stood at Marcel's right, his sharp features betraying a subtle irritation as if my presence were an inconvenience.
I stepped into the room, holding my ground as their eyes assessed me. Lord Marcel, ever the showman, walked toward me with calculated ease, his grin widening. "Freyr," he spoke up, his tone warm but layered with the faintest edge of condescension.
I said nothing, my silence a blade meant to cut through his theatrics. He stopped just short of me, his head tilting upward to meet my gaze, his grin faltering ever so slightly at my unyielding demeanor. "Welcome," he said, as though this were a friendly meeting.
Still, I remained mute, my expression as cold as the grave.
Lord Marcel's grin slipped entirely, his voice taking on a more formal edge as he continued. "I asked you here because I need your expertise. The wolves of the Bay Shifter pack are hiding something, and I need someone outside the Paradise Coven to investigate secretly and smartly. Who better to do this without anyone following you or suspecting us?"
My eyes darted around the room, taking in the watchful, expectant gazes of his entourage. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips as I returned my gaze to Marcel. His grin may have faded, but the calculated intent in his eyes remained.
"Expertise?" I said, my voice laced with mock amusement. "How charming. No, what you want is a spy you can send to Paradise Bay under the pretense of objectivity. Someone who won't sully the pristine reputation of the Paradise Coven."
Lord Marcel's expression flickered, a brief moment of irritation crossing his face before he masked it with a chuckle. "You misunderstand me, Freyr. This is about trust."
"Trust?" I retorted, my tone sharpening like a blade. "If you trusted me, you wouldn't have sent your guards to threaten me like I'm one of your subordinates. Let's not play games, Marcel. Say what you mean."
His entourage shifted uncomfortably, their gazes darting between Marcel and me. He took a deep breath, his grin returning, albeit thinner. "What I mean is that this mission requires finesse, and you are uniquely qualified to handle it. Think of it as an opportunity."
I let the silence hang heavy between us, savoring the unease that rippled through the room. Then I crossed my arms and leaned back slightly. "An opportunity, you say. That depends entirely on what you're offering in return."
Lord Marcel's grin widened, his voice smooth and measured. "If you agree, Freyr, I will sign over the title deed to Hanka Island. It will be yours, without contest."
I tilted my head, letting his words linger in the air. Hanka Island. Of all the bribes he could offer, this was a poor choice. Everyone knew Hank Island was neutral ground, belonging neither to Paradise Coven nor the Bay Shifter Pack. It was untouchable, a sanctuary of wild nothingness that answered to no one.
I chuckled, the sound echoing in the tense room like the crack of a whip. "Hanka Island?" I repeated, my voice dripping with mockery. "You're bluffing, Marcel. You don't have the authority to sign over something that was never yours to begin with."
Turning on my heel, I made for the door, eager to leave the stifling room and the petty games within. But before I could step out, a chorus of hisses erupted behind me. My beast stirred instantly, its presence coiling in the pit of my stomach. My senses sharpened, every nerve on edge. Slowly, I turned back, meeting the eyes of each figure in the room. Cassius, Harold, Idris—all of them stared, their expressions betraying a mix of hostility and hesitation.
Before the tension could snap, Lord Marcel was quick to speak, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "You have all the time you need to think about my offer," he said, his words smooth but unconvincing. "Consider it carefully, Freyr. And please, have a pleasant night."
I said nothing, letting the silence weigh down on them as I slowly nodded, a smirk curling my lips. My eyes darted across the room, blazing with barely restrained contempt. One by one, their gazes dropped in submission, fear flashing in their eyes before they bowed their heads.
Satisfied, I turned and walked out, my smirk still in place. Whatever Lord Marcel was playing at, he'd have to try harder to outmaneuver me. For now, I had no intention of becoming his pawn—but if he kept pushing, he might just find out what kind of beast he was truly dealing with.