“Thank you,” she said tightly as she moved to the sink and felt her shoulders want to sink in despair.
“You could stop this,” Cavalier said behind her. “One word is all it would take.”
“And what word would that be?” She shook her head.
She turned on the hot water, stopped the sink and prepared a soak for the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.
“We swore loyalty to him because of you,” Cavalier told her. “Because you were by his side and your scent reassured us that no matter the problems you were having, he was still loyal to you.
He’s no longer showing that loyalty.”
Anya turned around slowly.
“He’s an able commander and alpha,” she said roughly.
His dark face was stoic, his eyes fierce as thick, long, burnished dark blond hair framed his face.
“He is at that.” He nodded. “But a man isn’t judged on his abilities to lead well, Coya.”
“Don’t call me that, Cavalier,” she whispered. “I’m no longer your coya.”
“You are our coya,” he stated, a flare of anger filling his voice now. “We followed him, we swore our allegiance to him, because he was yours. Not because you belonged to him. He doesn’t shit on what we claim as our own and still command that loyalty.”
“No,” she said fiercely. “You just don’t understand his reasons. Let it go, Cavalier.”
“All we need is a single word, and we walk,” he stated. “If he’s mistreating you, none of us will remain under his command.”
How could she ever have considered this Breed dead inside? When she first met him, he’d had the same look on his face as he had now. Expressionless, his eyes cold—but in those cold amber eyes there was more than she had ever seen.
She saw it now. A feral fury, a dedication and complete loyalty. She had read his file from the other lab. She had known he’d been marked for death when she convinced her father he was a candidate for the training program at the Chernov labs.
She’d been fourteen. He had never reached out to her or anyone else, until now.
“He doesn’t mistreat me,” she swore.
He growled fiercely. “Neither does he show his respect for you. Until he does, there’s not a single Coyote, except those who knew you before, that will show you respect. There will be fights.” He glared at her. “Blood will spill. Because there’s not one of us that will stand by and allow it.”
He swung away from her then and stalked from the room.
“Dissension in the ranks, how interesting,” Sofia drawled from the other doorway. “Shouldn’t Del-Rey know about this?”
Anya swung around in surprise and faced the other woman. Great. Perfect. Just what the hell she needed.
“Whatever you think he needs to know,” she bit out before shoving dishes into the water to soak.
Silence filled the room.
“He’s not doing you any favors, Anya,” Sofia said then. “Del-Rey can be damned strange on a good day, and he has all these quirky little ideas about protecting the people he cares about. He’s not protecting you like this. He just thinks he is.”
The quiet reflection in the other woman’s voice had her head lifting, her eyes meeting Sofia’s surprisingly somber gaze.
“He’ll do what he thinks he should.”
“He’ll get you killed,” Sofia warned her.
“He knows what he’s doing,” Anya gritted out.
Sofia smiled. At first, a sad, wistful curve of her lips, then one of the mockery Anya was more used to.
“Oh well, if you die, I guess we’ll find out if Breeds really can mate a second time. I heard Mercury Warrant did. Maybe a Coyote Breed can as well.”
She turned and strolled from the kitchen then, flipping her hair over her shoulder with an air of interest, as though she were determined to find out one way or the other if she had a chance of playing coya now.
Anya stared down at the water before her, blinked back her tears and pushed back the hurt.
Hurting wasn’t going to fix it.
During the hours she spent with Del-Rey in their rooms, she knew the man she wanted, the one she couldn’t help but love. Once those doors were open and the alpha emerged though, she found that the commander, the leader, was a much different man.
Her status at Base had changed drastically with that memo stating that there had been a change of plans in the official ceremony. The order of separation had demanded her status as long as their relationship remained unresolved. It had been a protection for her, the other alpha leaders had explained. She had never imagined it was an illusion that would dissolve as quickly as the separation order had been dissolved.
Yet it had. The relegation from a place of respect to one of watchful challenge grated on her pride. But then again, few Breeds of any species gave respect where their alphas didn’t. Anya, a human, weaker physically and for all intents and purposes without another Breed officially accepting responsibility for her and her actions was then less than the dirt on their feet.
It was the way of the world in which she now existed, and she had no idea how to change the impression they had been given.
Del-Rey read the morning reports, signed off on memos and sipped his coffee as he frowned over the day-to-day admistrative end of his job. He had shit in his inbox he’d never had before.
Complaints. Requests. Bitches over the Feline and Wolf teams. Ingratiating emails that always ended with a request. Hundreds of them.
He sat back in his chair and glared at the holographic computer screen, before activating the link at his ear.
“Yes, Alpha?” Brim’s voice was calm. Too calm. The same tone he had used for three days now.
It was pissing him off.
“Get in here,” he ordered.
When the door opened, he glared at the other man as he waved his hand to the computer screen.
“What the fuck is this?”
This. Two hundred and twenty-seven emails from pack leaders, soldiers, Breed Enforcers and others that he had no way to identify.
Brim moved around the desk and stared curiously at the screen.
“Ah yes,” he finally said. “The reversion of duties.” He shrugged.
“What the fuck,” Del-Rey snarled, “is that?”
Brim crossed his arms over his chest before he leaned against the wall beside Del-Rey’s chair.
“Reversion of duties,” Brim stated. “The responsiblities of the coya, Del-Rey. There is no longer a coya. Her email address was revoked and all emails addressed to her are returned to their proper owner. Namely, the alpha.”
“You did this?” Del-Rey growled.
Brim’s eyes widened. “Not I,” he chuckled. “That happened at Haven when the memo went out.
The server processes the emails. When the official ceremony was called off, Haven had no choice but to cut off the email address. It’s part of the bylaws of the society. Didn’t you read them?”
No. He hadn’t read the fucking bylaws, because he wasn’t part of the society. Protocol bullshit.
Societal responsibilities. They were a military base, not a fucking home for wayward Breeds.
“Assign someone to answer this bullshit.” He waved his hand to the computer. “Anya’s probably ecstatic she doesn’t have to deal with it anymore.”
Brim was silent.
Del-Rey stared at the emails again and blew out a hard breath.
“I could assign someone,” Brim finally stated. “Sofia should still be lounging around somewhere; I’ll put her to work.”
Del-Rey stared back at him slowly, his lips lifting in a silent snarl.
Brim shrugged. “As you stated, Anya was probably glad to be rid of the responsibility. It leaves her more free time to spend with you.”
Del-Rey turned and stared at the screen again, saying nothing.