“Then you best take care of yourself.” Ciara got up, brushing her skirts straight. “If there’s anyone who would be helpful—who you could trust—look up Saoirse. I’m not sure if she’s still with the pack, but she might be.” She gave me a satisfied nod as if to say she’d said her piece and was moving on. “I’ll see that some food makes its way to your room.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t the least bit hungry after hearing her tale. Instead, I let Ciara hurry off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
My trek back through the estate was slow. I knew I had to talk with Donovan, but I wasn’t sure where to start so I took my time, meandering my way back to my room. The whole time I walked, I tried to process everything that Ciara had been through. The story blew my mind. It was a huge feat that she’d survived everything Vivian had done to her. I’d always known Ciara was strong, I just hadn’t realized how brave she was.
And I couldn’t ignore the fact that Ciara had given me a second warning about the Irish pack in as many days. It felt as if fate was knocking, and I had no choice but to open the door. Avoiding any trips across the ocean was the best option for now. Ther
e was no rush to complete our bond. Donovan had said that over and over again. For the first time, I wondered why he was so adamant that we wait.
Did he know that there was a mad wolf in his pack? And if so, what else was he keeping from me? Because that was kind of a big deal. If this relationship was going to work, I needed full and complete honesty.
As I made my way toward my room, I swore that I’d get to the bottom of this. If not for myself, for Ciara. She was a kind woman who’d put up with all of my endless crap with a grace I could only hope to emulate. Eventually, I’d be joining the Irish pack, and when that happened, I was going to be ready. Mad wolves and all.
Chapter Seven
Donovan was waiting in my rooms as promised. I closed the door and leaned back on it as I tried to figure out where to start.
“It’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” he said
“Really? Because it sounds pretty terrible.”
“’Tis, but…” He stood up from his perch on the foot of my bed. His dark hair was still damp from his shower, and his frown was particularly pitiful. “I know Vivian is a problem, but I haven’t felt comfortable doing anything about her. I—” He crossed his arms. “God. This is bloody awkward. I slept with her a long time ago, and I regretted it immediately. She’s used it as a weapon against me for ages.”
“A weapon. Why? How?” That seemed pretty impossible. Donovan was the Alpha. She couldn’t order him around, and it wasn’t like Donovan had some weird fetish or something she could lord over him.
“I left before Vivian was awake, hoping to pretend it’d never happened. That hurt her feelings, and she threw a bit of a fit.” He said it very matter-of-factly, but I had a feeling that “bit of a fit” was a massive understatement. From what Ciara had said, the woman was totally batshit. “I felt horrid for hurting her. She thought it meant much more than it did. I didn’t think I’d given her that impression, but…”
I laughed. “She was playing you.”
“I realize that now, but I didn’t then. I was so distracted by the responsibility I’d taken on by joining the Seven that I couldn’t fully see what was in front of me. By the time I did, it was too late to do anything about it.”
Under all the power and easy smiles, Donovan was a genuinely nice guy. If he thought he’d honestly hurt Vivian’s feelings, I could see why he’d let her get away with too much. But what Ciara was accusing was pushing the limit of what was acceptable. He was the Alpha. It was his job to keep his wolves in line, especially when pack members were turning up dead.
“Did Vivian murder Ciara’s family?” I held my breath, waiting for an answer and hoping that Ciara had grossly exaggerated.
“Honestly, I don’t know for sure—I’ve not one single shred of evidence—but my gut says Ciara’s story is fact.”
The air rushed from my lungs. He was letting a murderer roam free? “Why haven’t you done anything?”
His eyes widened. “Without proof? I’m one of the Seven. The way I act and lead my pack serves as an example for every other pack on this planet. If I start acting on the whims of a Were half-gone with grief over the loss of her mate, killing another Were with not a shred of evidence, then what does that show to everyone else?”
Shit. He had a point. “Let’s leave proof out of it for now. Is Vivian mad or just evil?”
“Vivian’s mad.”
I stomped over to him and gave him a shove. “You idiot! If she’s a mad wolf, then you have to take her out. Everyone knows the rule. A mad wolf cannot live. To hell with proof.”
“I agree,” he said calmly, taking my hand. “But I uphold the Law. That’s my job as one of the Seven. If I kill her without the proper tribunal and proof, then I call into question everything that the Seven does. I don’t have any proof that Vivian’s mad, and if I kill her without it, what’s to prevent someone like Imogene from calling Tessa mad and taking the matter into her own hands? Every feud would end with someone killing another Were and getting away with it. The wolf was mad. They had to be taken care of.”
I backed away from him. “How long have you known?”
“A long time.”
“Before you slept with her?”
“No. She hid it well.”
This was a huge problem. “Why did you sleep with her in the first place?” I didn’t want to know the answer, but I needed to know.