Chapter 244 A Helpless Pregnant Housewife
Elana turned her head, her silver eyes locking onto Leela’s with the fierce, unshakeable confidence of a Matriarch who had survived decades of political warfare.
"We haven't smelled a single spike of unnatural guilt," Elana continued smoothly. "We haven't caught a single nervous glance toward the perimeter, or intercepted a single whispered conversation about the capital. These packs are exactly what they appear to be: independent, tired of the Council's overreach, and completely oblivious to the Vault."
Leela let out a slow, grounding breath, but the tight knot of anxiety in her chest didn't completely unravel. She shifted Briar higher on her hip, her gaze drifting back to the tree line beyond the sprawling lawns.
"I know," Leela said softly, a small, troubled frown pulling at her lips. "I know the perimeter is secure and the women are clean. But..." She hesitated, shaking her head slightly as if trying to physically dislodge the feeling. "Something just feels off. Like a shift in the air."
Elana’s sharp gaze softened. She reached out, resting her warm hand gently over Leela’s free hand.
"I'm sure it's just the pressure of everything," Leela quickly added, offering a tired, self-deprecating smile. "The ledgers, sending Damon to the capital, the sheer number of wolves on our land right now. My hormones are probably just amplifying the stress. I'm just being paranoid."
"You are being a Luna," Elana corrected gently, her tone completely validating the younger woman's instincts. "Never apologize for feeling the weight of your pack, Leela. The pressure is immense. But you have done exactly what you needed to do today. The cover story is holding."
A dark, brilliant smirk finally touched Elana's lips as she looked back out at the massive timber piles waiting on the darkening lawns. "Now, we just have to light the match."
Leela didn't look back. She carried Briar straight down the corridor and pushed through the heavy double doors of the dining hall.
The room was a bustling, chaotic haven of roaring fires, clinking silverware, and loud conversation. Across the massive room, Fennigan and Jax were holding court at a large, round table, deep in conversation with a group of visiting warriors.
Leela walked smoothly over to the long buffet table, snagging a fresh, warm blueberry muffin for Briar. Once the toddler was happily occupied, Leela wove through the crowded room and stepped right up to the Alpha's table.
She offered a bright, flawless smile to the visiting men. "Good day, gentlemen."
The conversation instantly ceased. Every visiting wolf at the table immediately bowed their heads in deep, genuine respect. "Good day, Luna," they rumbled in perfect unison.
Fennigan’s glowing silver eyes immediately sought hers, his Alpha instincts instantly picking up on the faint, lingering spike of adrenaline in her scent beneath the sweet smell of the baby's muffin.
"Fenn," Leela asked softly, her tone perfectly pleasant for the guests, "could we talk?"
Fennigan didn't hesitate. He immediately planted his hands on the table, preparing to push his massive frame up from the chair. Right beside him, Jax mirrored the movement perfectly, the Beta instantly shifting into protective mode at the subtle tension in his Luna's voice. They both started to rise in unison.
Leela quickly reached out, resting her hand gently on Jax's broad shoulder to stop him. She offered the Beta a warm, slightly amused smile, keeping the illusion of a perfectly happy hostess intact for the visitors.
"It's okay, Jax," Leela murmured softly. She reached down with her free hand, lightly patting the swell of her baby bump with a meaningful, exaggerated look. "I just need your brother for a minute. Personal reasons."
Jax froze halfway out of his seat. He blinked, the fierce, tactical Beta instantly short-circuiting at the implication. A faint, embarrassed flush touched his thick neck as he quickly dropped back down into his chair, clearing his throat.
"Oh," Jax muttered, suddenly finding his half-empty ale glass incredibly interesting. "Right. Understood."
A dark, amused smirk pulled at the corners of Fennigan's lips. He stepped away from the table, placing a large, warm hand on the small of Leela's back to gently guide her out of the crowded dining hall and into a quiet, empty alcove near the kitchens.
The absolute second they were out of earshot, the Alpha's amused smirk vanished, replaced by a sharp, lethal focus.
"What happened?" Fennigan asked, his voice dropping to a low, protective rumble as he looked down at her. "You smell like a fight."
Leela let out a frustrated breath the absolute second the alcove shadows concealed them. She shifted Briar higher on her hip as the toddler happily mashed the warm blueberry muffin against her own chin, completely oblivious to her mother's rising temper.
"I walked out of the sunroom and found Alpha Draven and his Beta huddled together in the guest wing hallway," Leela whispered, her silver eyes flashing with indignant anger. "They were whispering—the kind of hushed, intense whispering that instantly snaps shut the second someone else approaches."
Fennigan's jaw immediately tightened. A low, dangerous rumble began vibrating deep in his massive chest, his protective instincts instantly flaring at the thought of men creeping around his home.
"And then," Leela continued, her voice tightening, "when I tried to walk past, they purposely blocked the hall. He spoke to me like I was nothing but a fragile nuisance. Like because I happen to fit his archaic description of a female perfectly right now—carrying one baby and pregnant with another—that I belong barefoot in a nursery and have no business interrupting the 'men's work.'"
She looked up at her Alpha, her chest heaving slightly with disbelief. "Fenn, he is in our house. How can he be hiding away in a dark hallway, acting completely suspicious, and then turn around and treat the Luna of this pack with such blatant disrespect in her own home?"
Fennigan's eyes flared, the glowing silver burning with a sudden, molten intensity. His large hands came up to gently cup her face, his thumbs stroking her cheekbones as he forcefully reined in his wolf's immediate, violent urge to march back into the dining hall and rip Draven's throat out for insulting his mate.
"Because he's an arrogant, antiquated fool," Fennigan growled softly, leaning down to press his forehead firmly against hers. "And because he is nervous, Lee. Men like Draven use condescension as a shield when they're hiding something they don't want you to see."
He pressed a hard, fierce kiss to her lips, deliberately wrapping his heavy, grounding scent around her to calm her frayed nerves.
"Let him think you're just a sweet, helpless pregnant housewife," Fennigan murmured, a dark, lethal smile slowly spreading across his face as his tactical mind went to work. "Let him completely underestimate you. It makes him blind. Because tonight, when those study doors lock, he's going to find out exactly what kind of Matriarch runs this territory."
Fennigan's thumb brushed over her lower lip, his voice dropping to a deadly, quiet promise. "And if I find out he was whispering about the High Council in my hallways, I will let you be the one to tell him his reign is officially over."