Chapter 10

Elena & Killian

Elena

I walked up to the guard posted in front of the narrow, nondescript doorway in the back of the bar and spoke the password.

“The price of information is an arm and a leg.”

The guard nodded and stepped aside, letting me into a small but well-appointed room. There was a fire crackling in a stone fireplace against the far wall, and a round table with several men seated around it. They appeared to be in the midst of a poker game, but all looked up when I entered.

“Well, well,” one of the men, large and burly even with his face covered by a mask, said when he noticed a strand of my white hair peeking out from beneath my cloak. “What a surprise. Leave us, fellas.”

The men grumbled and exited, leaving their cards and chips sitting on the table. I didn’t wait for an invitation to take a seat directly across from the man with the mask. Once we were alone, I lowered my hood; he already knew who I was, since I was the only person in Waning Moon with this color hair. And from what Maeve had told me, discretion was not a problem with him.

“Luna Elena,” the man said, his voice slightly muffled behind his mask—which depicted, I realized now that I was closer, the face of a red fox. “I never expected to see your pretty white face in a place like this. What’s a little snowbunny like you doing this far from the warren, hm?”

I bristled at the insults, but didn’t rise to the bait. It took all of one glance for me to figure out this man’s identity; he was known in the “underworld” of the territories—the shady alleys and underground hideouts and wherever criminals like to gather—simply as “The Fox”.

But really, his name was Jaxon Adler.

I wouldn’t have known his true identity if it weren’t for the large emerald ring on his finger. Before I died, he became Killian’s greatest rival, even going so far as to nearly beat Killian in the Alpha Council election.

But he had suddenly died, and an autopsy confirmed that he had been poisoned slowly, likely over a period of months, with Foxglove poison.

A fitting end, considering the mask.

His belongings had been auctioned off after his death, and to spite him, Killian had purchased the ring and worn it himself. That was how I recognized it.

I kept those tidbits to myself, though, and straightened my spine. “I need information.”

Jaxon’s head tilted slightly and rapidly, like an animal considering its prey. From behind his mask, beady yellow eyes watched me with a mixture of wariness and humor. “A given, considering the fact that you’ve come to me, snowbunny.” He paused, then said, “How do I know your Alpha hasn’t sent you to entrap me?”

I laughed out loud. “Killian won’t even let me perform my regular Luna duties. What makes you think he would send me to entrap a crime lord?”

“Fair enough.” He gestured to me and leaned back in his chair. “What information do you seek?”

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the scrap of paper with the crest on it and tossed it toward him. He caught it with one hand. “Do you recognize that crest?” I asked.

Jaxon was silent, his yellow eyes betraying nothing for a long time. I tried not to show the disappointment on my face as it hit me that he might not know either, and if he didn’t know, then no one did.

Finally, he handed the paper back. “Tell me, what is the price of information?”

I frowned, recalling the secret password. “An arm and a leg.”

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I sat on my hands to keep from fidgeting.

“A red herring,” he said, then shook his head. “No, little rabbit. The price of information is always information. That’s what makes this world go round—not money, but secrets. So, tell me…” He paused again, this time leaning his large, burly forearms on the table so heavily the wood groaned, and said, “What juicy little morsels do you have for me?”

I pursed my lips, considering. I could easily tell Jaxon about the poison, but it was risky. He would want to know how I knew about it, and could potentially accuse me of being the poisoner.

But Jaxon clearly liked to talk in riddles and metaphors. Arms and legs, red herrings, little white rabbits, fox masks… I could give him a taste of his own medicine and still get what I wanted.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll tell you this: little rabbit knows the woods better than you think. She’s seen what happens to the clever foxes who feast too greedily from the farmer’s henhouse. Someone’s spoiled the meat, Jaxon.”

A long silence passed. Yellow eyes blinked at me from behind his mask once, twice, then three times, and I feared he might attack me for calling out his real name.

But then: “Very well. I’ll help you investigate this crest. Thank you for your information, little rabbit.”

I nodded and stood and left without a word. It wasn’t until I was outside, the cold night air ghosting my skin, that I noticed my hands were shaking.

By the time I returned home, I was exhausted. I was looking forward to crawling into bed where it was safe and warm—for now, anyway—but when I entered my room and turned on the light, I was surprised to find a box sitting on my nightstand.

Curious, I opened the box to find an entire set of diamond jewelry: a necklace with a half dozen tiny diamond pendants surrounding one large one that shimmered in the light, matching earrings, and even a bracelet.

“To smooth things over,” a note inside read. Then, underneath it: “Make sure you wear this to the campaign banquet next Saturday. -K”

…

Killian

Elena didn’t mention the gifts I’d given her, but she also didn’t outwardly cause any trouble for the coming days, so I assumed the expensive diamonds had finally pacified her. I was glad for it, too, because I had begun to reach the end of my rope.

On Friday, we attended a charity auction. Elena didn’t argue when I told her that we needed to attend—it was good for our reputation and the pack’s morale—and even smiled when I told her she was welcome to bid freely on anything she wanted.

In fact, when we entered the auction, Elena willingly took my arm and remained by my side without fuss.

I noticed that she wasn’t wearing the jewelry I’d purchased for her tonight, but I had told her specifically to wear it to the upcoming banquet, and besides, I figured it wouldn’t suit her dress. Tonight, she was wearing a deep, rich red gown that trailed around her ankles, the silky fabric hugging her curves.

It must have been new. I didn’t recall buying it for her, but perhaps she had taken my card for some shopping at some point while I was working.

It suited her, though. The red was contrasted against her snowy skin, and the way it fit her body was admittedly attractive, a far cry from the muted colors and looser silhouettes she usually wore.

She actually looked quite beautiful. And very different from her usual self, but at least this time it was in a good way and not in a go-out-of-my-way-to-make-your-life-a-living-hell way.

But when the curtain raised to reveal the first items to be auctioned off, all thoughts of my mate’s beauty slipped from my mind.

Because sitting on the podium, ready to be sold, was the jewelry set I had just gifted her.