Chapter 44
Blaine De Lombardi's POV
I was always aware of my father's ability to manage his roles as an alpha, a mate, and a father when I was younger. I wasn't aware of how hard the task was at the time, but I'm feeling it now.
The last thing I want to do right now is spend time with my pack leaders around a table in the pack house. Being with Lucia is something I'd much like. As I take the helm of the table, the seat opposite me stays unoccupied, designated for my Luna. Johnson is seated on the left, and Cyril is seated to my right. Although they haven't found partners yet, seats will be added to make room for them. Johnson's parents, the Kelvins, are seated next to him, while Claire and Steve Lorenzo are seated next to their son. My captains take their seats toward the end of the table. The captains are in charge of guiding the fighters. Abbott Dalton leads the deltas, Meghan Drake leads the gammas, and Amir Nicholas leads the betas.
I feel so proud of myself when I look around. My pack is powerful because we assign members based on their strength rather than their birthright. Since Monica, the first De Lombardi alpha, the family has been the Alpha family. Although we haven't wavered since it's feasible that another family will claim the next alpha. Everyone seated around me and I both earned our places.
"What is our plan for handling the Nightshades? They targeted our top dogs!" Abbott said.
"Like we always deal with our problems with brute force," Meghan remarks, repeatedly hitting the table with her fist to drive home her point. Despite being close to 400 years old, Meghan Drake appears to be in her fifties. She was among my father's most dependable counselors, and I'm grateful for her ability to lead daily.
Dora George remarks, "I thought we got rid of the Nightshades years ago." She's not incorrect; numerous packs banded together to exterminate them, but it appears that they've returned.
"There has to be more going on; otherwise, why would they just appear? I said, "I believe someone brought them here."
"It's possible; Nightshades always yield to a master, so that means someone wanted to attack us," Meghan continued.
"However, why? Wolves haven't fought in a very long time," claims Cyril.
Johnson speculates that it might be a different magical race.
"The vampires stay in Eastern Europe for the most part when they visit Earth, and the witches are busy with their shit," I said. Although it is impossible to identify the perpetrator, we must know to bring them to justice.
With a wicked smile on his face, Cyril remarks, "It can't be the Midnight Pack either, because it turns out their alpha had a son who ended up killing Daddy dearest." Drama is a man's lifeblood.
Knowing they can hear me, I mumble, "Good riddance, if you ask me." That man was a madman trapped in the twentieth century. It has always baffled me that women were not allowed to hold leadership positions in his pack. When you have resources at your disposal, you should put them to use rather than hoarding and undermining them. Some of my greatest soldiers are my she-wolves.
Their facial expressions tell me that they concur with what I've said. I return the focus of the conversation to the current issue. When talking about new safety procedures, four hours go by quickly.
At last, I adjourned the assembly. Remaining behind, the Lorenzos ask about Lucia. I can tell that there is not an appropriate amount of trust between us based on the way they look at me. It's reasonable. The man who betrayed one sister, banished the other, kept the other as a stand-in Luna so he could screw about, and then sank his teeth into the other sister is not someone I would trust.
What a perplexing tale to tell our children!
Claire gives me the look that says she could skin me alive, and I have complete faith in her ability. But she would never say that directly to me. Claire Lorenzo conceals all of her slights because she was brought up to be a respectable Italian lady.
"Claire Lorenzo, you seem worn out. She smiles sweetly and says, "I sure hope my daughter is looking better than you these days."
"Lucia is doing great," I reply in a stern voice. It was accurate; Lucia has made herself at home in my house, and it appears like she is claiming it daily. I always discover a sock or two of hers lying on the floor; my bedroom blanket has switched from black to royal blue; and my couch is covered in beautiful cushions.
Her voice sounds too innocent as she explains, "By the time we were mated, Steve and I already had nicknames for each other." I simply want to go home, and here I am talking about nicknames while staring at her expressionlessly.
"I like Lucia's name exactly the way it is," I said to her.
I said, "Sometimes I call her a little wolf," in an attempt to win her over and end this argument. Although I originally said it to make fun of her, I now say it with affection.
"Her wolf isn't little," says Claire.
"Every wolf is small compared to me."
She agrees with a hum.
"Let him go, Ma," says Cyril.
You are aware that Lucia will not visit our home due to Mirabel! I only have to check up on her once, right now," she pouts.
"We have phones," deadpans Cyril. He suddenly stops talking when she gives him a fierce look.
I said, "You can just come to our place." Claire gives me a startled expression as though I just uttered something.
I understand that I have a reputation for being, well, harsh, but I won't control Lucia's life or prevent her from seeing her family.
I really ought to start grinning more.
"Really?"
"Yes really!"
Steve shoots me a grateful glance as he beams at me. Approaching Claire, Meghan strikes up a conversation. Seeing an opportunity to get away, I weave between the tiny group and hurry home.
I smelled two more people as I got closer to the house. Rose and Valerie, it appears that my friend has guests over.
How can a wolf spend some quality time by themselves with their partner?
I push the door open, and it creaks slowly. The girls are curled up together on the couch as a movie is being shown on TV. Snacks were all over the floor and coffee table. If they do not hear me walk in, they must be completely unconscious.
The way Lucia is lying may hurt her neck in the morning. She has her mouth agape, a tiny droplet of saliva congealing at the edge of her lips. I want to snap a photo of her. She exudes a carefree demeanor, seemingly impervious to the troubles of the world. I hope they never do.
I tuck one arm into the bend of her legs and put the other on her back. Trying not to wake her, I brought her to our room. I got a blanket out of the closet and covered Rose and Valerie once she settled into bed.
My house has never seemed like home, but now that she's here, everything feels perfect.