Chapter 3. Ambassador Pile of Shit

October 8th, xxxx - PRECIOUS' POV

AUTUMN HAVE DRAGGED A pile of shit to his doorstep. A pile of shit with the face of a mustached squirrel, the body of a pot and the eyes of a sunken condescending addict, Precious thinks as he stares at the rubbish pouring out of the representative’s mouth.

Ambassador, as the Consul says.

Human-Werewolf Ambassador. But Precious knows the term is wrong. They don’t have an ambassador representing their interests in the Consul. Therefore, the right term should be Human Government Representative or as he likes to call it, human pile of shit.

That term isn’t nice but neither is the utter crap out his mouth. Since last year, unbeknownst to the Pack, Precious has been stalling the Consul’s outrageous requests. It started off that as a request until it became a cleverly disguised threat of violence, blackmail and manipulation.

It isn’t enough the pieces of shit are bleeding them dry, they want the very thing the 1943 Elimination of Werewolf Indoctrination Treaty aimed to prevent.

The taking of children as lab rats. Children.

Over his dead body, Precious had said. That got the Consul angry. Then, a copy of the treaty’s amendment came with this pile of shit three months ago to show him the several discrepancies found in the treaty.

Ambiguously worded clauses indicating that when ‘long-distance taming of the wild’ is insufficient, they have all the right to ‘assimilate the young into respectable and civilized adults’ for the ‘betterment and advancement of society towards a great civilization’.

It hadn’t been his best work but Precious had gone absolutely feral on the Ambassador. That outrage unfortunately proved the Consul’s point of ‘any sign of danger the young might endure, immediate evacuation would be implemented to ensure their safety’.

Goddess is Precious pissed off.

The Ambassador ran to the Consul, reported the ‘grave danger he was in’ and ‘believes the Alpha is abusing his power’. The fucking bastard had used abusing.

The Consul are savages in slippery smiles and carefully coded words throwing the Alphas an olive branch. Invited them to the Children Boarding Facility to show in that they (the Consul) have the children’s best interests at heart.

Fast forward right now.

The Elders have been briefed of the sticky situation but leaves it to him to decide. Now they trust his judgement. The shocked pale secretary, to his credit contains his disgust and diligently jots notes.

The pile of shit have been trying to bulldoze him to fold to the Consul’s demands. So far, he’s keeping strong. This headache with the Consul and the Blue Sun Pack are doing his head in. Unfortunately, the pile of shit will be a guest for three days before leaving.

Precious will make him leave with no good news. Let him hassle another Pack. It’s different when the pack sends their blood for research but Precious won’t send children away. How to explain that to their parents would be another issue.

Making a show of checking his watch, Precious interrupts the Ambassador’s passionate tirade.

“It is getting rather late for breakfast, Ambassador. Breakfast has been arranged for you in the Breakfast Parlour. It won’t eat itself.”

The Breakfast Parlour is the Ambassador’s regular guest room.

“I’m not hungry, Mr. North. There’s still a workload to go through."

A glance at the mound of work on his desk is like lemons to his mood. Sour.

“I insist, Mr. Ambassador,” he stands and gestures to Nuka ready to play perfect host. “You can’t work without sustenance.”

At his insistence, the Ambassador begrudgingly stands up. “That’s true. Besides, we have three more days. Good news isn’t running away.”

Ignoring that selfish optimism, Precious forces out a smile. “My secretary will attend to you. Nuka, when Mr. Ambassador have settled in, bring over the materials.”

“Of course, Alpha,” Nuka shoots him a grateful smile before ushering the pile of shit out.

Bring in the materials is code for Nuka to use his secretarial duties to leave as the pile of shit is notoriously known for being a nauseatingly demanding guest.

Precious slumps into his chair but he feels cramped. The warm tones of the lights in the office does nothing to improve his mood.

Handmade by his mother, the sturdy mahogany has no scratches except for the blots of ink on the surface.

On the table are mountains of paperwork, stationaries, a laptop and a telephone. When his mum had been the Alpha, Precious remembers her answering calls from the pack.

However, he barely receives phone calls because unlike his mother, he’s friendly but not outgoing. The Pack sees that he’s healthy and that’s enough for them.

Their village might be modern but it’s not a beacon of technology. Security cameras, telephones, cable television, a car and a school bus. No Pack blasts their existence to the humans. They prefer it that way. The Consul prefers it that way.

He takes a file only to toss it aside ticked off at their lack of power. North Star Pack. Smallest Pack in the area. A fodder for the big ones. If children starts missing left and right, it’ll become a problem.

Goddess, he needs fresh air.

Precious mind flashes to cool blue eyes and he smiles—a real one this time at the image.

Kamil. Cool and collected. Unlike him, the massive bullshitter.

Eyes closed to the ceiling, his thoughts wanders to pale blue eyes and a lake that he doesn’t hear Nuka come in. He jerks slightly when he’s called, and he scowls.

Be alert, Precious. Never relax, you hear me?

His mother’s constant warning. Cam’s constant nagging. The Elders bone of contention. He doesn’t need anyone's reminder that he’s partially deaf. Or just deaf, according to the Elders.

“Alpha, don’t take this the wrong way,” Nuka begins, playing with his fingers but his hazel eyes —like Cam’s but with blue flecks instead of golden— stays on him.

“But are we really giving him what he’s asking?” Without waiting for an answer, Nuka flares, gesticulating wildly. “We can’t give him children! He’s asking for children! That’s—”

“Listen to me,” Precious straightens, voice hard. "Get in touch with the Alphas’ secretaires. Tell them it’s a Code Now and book appointments on the 10th and 11th.”

He sees Nuka's expression. “I know it’s impromptu but we can’t wait around.”

Nuka opens his mouth but closes it immediately and nods.

“Of course, whatever you say,” a pause. “And the Ambassador? What will you do about him?”

Precious smiles. “Cam has always wanted to take him off my hands.”

Nuka’s expression changes to dread.

“It’ll be fine. Now go. Those irate secretaries won’t yell at themselves.”

Nuka nods again and leaves for the door.

“And Nuka?” Precious smiles reassuringly when Nuka turns around, “Don’t worry. I have it under control.”

“Of course, Alpha. We trust you.”

Not a day goes by Precious doesn’t think about that.