"So," Matt Slade drawled slowly, his tone edged with unmistakable amusement, "he's planning to gather a few extra males to help Paros secure his footing."
No one present needed the implications spelled out. Everyone in the room was centuries old—ancient enough to have watched dynasties rise, fracture, and rot from the inside. Among therians who had lived that long, secrets rarely stayed buried for long.
Matt knew exactly what Ethan Gabriel was scheming.
Without missing a beat, he turned his sharp, calculating gaze toward Rory. "Female Master Rory," he said smoothly, "if you're truly considering taking on followers—or potential mates—you'd be wise to look to our Noble Clan."
There was no mistaking the pride in his voice.
