Chapter 282 - Decisions

~ SASHA ~

Sasha had been allowed to shower again, then change into something a little more refined—Nick provided a blazer and dark jeans because, he said, the bosses would take her more seriously if she looked a little more put together.

Sasha had snorted with the ridiculousness of it all, but even as she'd quailed, a steady resolve began a drumbeat in her chest. She had an idea. Vague and uncertain as it was, it was an idea and she held her breath as she and Nick were driven to another area deeper into the forest, then let out of the vehicle in front of the first building that had the refinement Sasha would have expected from men of the sort Nick described.

She was glad he'd given her the blazer. She already felt like she was on the back foot with these people. If she'd shown up in a hoodie it would have sucked her power completely.

Now she sat at the table chewing at a breadstick to try and keep her stomach settled, while Nick made small talk with two of the four men they were expecting.

"…and you're looking well, Sasha. It looks like Thana agreed with you!" She turned to meet eyes with the man who spoke. She'd been introduced but couldn't remember his name. But he was surprisingly jovial—like a knock-off Santa Claus with no hair. He had a shiny dome, but a thick white beard, bright blue eyes that made her stomach clench because they reminded her of Zev, and a round, protruding stomach that was slightly slimmed by his double-breasted suit jacket.

She wanted to spit in his face, but instead she smiled.

"Yes, I love Thana," she said carefully, examining every word for potential landmines. "But I've also been learning about your projects here. It's all very… impressive."

Santa Claus smiled and nudged the dark, brooding man next to him. "You see, I told you she was a smart girl."

The sour puss was much younger, probably barely out of his forties. His black hair slicked back and barely peppered at the temples with gray—the kind of gray that made a man look distinguished, rather than old. He was fit, athletic, naturally tan, and he wore dark slacks and a trim sweater that hugged his body.

His eyes were deep-set and he stared out at her as if from twin caves of suspicion. "That's good to hear, Sasha," he said, his voice a deep drawl. "What, exactly, exceeded your expectations?"

The level of sheer malice you all bestow on the world, Sasha thought, but didn't say. "The most surprising thing to me was the technology, I think," she said. "That material that you used in the stables. I didn't even know that existed. I can see many ways it would be useful in the real world."

The man put his tumbler of some brown liquor down on the table and tilted his head. "I assure you, Sasha, this world you're in now is far more real than the one you left."

Sasha mirrored his head tilt. "Oh? How so?" She'd never sounded more like a Bond Villain in her life. What had these people done to her?

"Because this is the world where you can see the whole picture," the man said darkly. "From here, you see the comfortable façade that you were raised in—the world that will allow people to live and let live, as long as they don't interfere. But also, you can see those who are actually important. Most of the players in your former daily drama were just puppets. Here you walk with people who have actual power."

He moved to pick up his glass again, but hadn't dropped her gaze. There was a warning in his eyes, and in his tone.

Sasha nodded slowly, acknowledging it. "That's exactly why I describe all this as impressive," she said, waving a hand around at their surroundings. "You people, what you're doing, the fact that you've achieved all of this without the world finding out. It's mind boggling."

Sour puss looked like he would question her further, but just then a formal waiter arrived at the side of the table, ushering two more men with him. He pulled out their chairs, took their drink orders, and bowed.

Sasha was introduced the moment the staff member left, yet she couldn't retain the names of these two either. But she did study their faces.

Once everyone had ordered and their food had arrived, conversation turned back to Sasha—who was slowly sipping soup and chewing more bread. She was worried her stomach might revolt again.

She could feel their eyes on her, even when she looked down at her bowl. Her skin prickled and she wondered if this was what it was like to be in a zoo. Just sitting there, under eyes. People discussing you as if you didn't exist, or couldn't understand.

It was creepy.

"So, Sasha, we hear that you've been acknowledged as Alpha on Thana. I must say, that was a surprise," Santa Claus said, waggling his bushy eyebrows. "Your own form of impressive."

Sasha forced a smile at his reference. "I promise you no one was more surprised than me," she said honestly. "But because they trust Zev, they trust me too, so I'll do the best job that I can."

"What about Zev?" Santa Claus asked casually. "What's he doing if you're Alpha?"

"He's the Alpha of the wolf clan, and my second." She almost spoke about her proposal for a shared leadership, but she didn't want to give them ideas they didn't have. She kept her mouth closed.

"I'll admit, I have reservations. We've never seen any propensity among the Chimera to follow easily, or offer leadership quickly. I struggle to believe that your title of Alpha is genuine," Sour Puss said frankly.

"You can question it all you like. I can't deny that I didn't believe it myself at first. But Nick can tell you—they submit to me. For them, this is real. I'm not going to let them down. I came because Nick said the Alpha needed to come here, to work with you, for everyone's safety. So here I am. And I suspect you wouldn't be here if you didn't have evidence beyond my word that it was true, so let's not play games."

Then she put her spoon down and met eyes with every man at the table, waiting for them to respond.