Lucien remained with the higher nobles, though his eyes occasionally scanned the crowd, clearly searching for someone who would never step forward.
Some wolves near him whispered passionately.
A Beta from another pack murmured, "If Devlin Magnus is as strong as the rumors suggest, the balance of power between clans will shift. It will shift in favor of the mages."
Another replied, "The king will certainly want him allied with the wolves. Imagine an army led by Dezyne and Devlin."
Lucien's hand curled around his glass, jaw tightening.
Someone else joined in, laughing nervously, "Or perhaps Devlin will be mated to a noble house. That's how magical clans secure loyalty, don't they?"
Lucien's aura shifted sharply, cold, and dangerous.
Devon felt it even from above.
Lucien's voice was low, edged with coldness. "If Devlin Magnus is anything like what you describe, he won't bend to anyone's political games."
The Beta blinked. "Are you defending a man you haven't even met?"
