MasukCHAPTER THIRTYJULIAN'S POVThree days before the full moon, Teague came into my office and shut the door.He didn't sit. He stood in front of the desk with his hands behind his back, the way he did when he had bad news and wanted to give it quickly."You asked me to watch your mother," he said.I put down the pen."She's met Royce Lowe twice this week. Both times at a diner in Framingham, off the Pike, where nobody from either pack eats. She sat in a back booth for an hour each time." He paused. "I didn't get close enough to hear. Royce would have scented me.""Twice.""Monday and today."I looked down at the desk. There was a letter on it from Thatch, delivered by Council courier that morning. It was one line long, in his spidery handwriting. The file, Alpha. Before the moon.I had turned the house upside down for it. I'd searched Arthur's study a second time and then the attic and the cellar. I'd even gone through the boxes of my father's things in the garage that nobody had opened
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINEHAZEL'S POV"No," Cole said.He said it before I'd finished signing. He was standing at the kitchen counter with one hand pressed over his stitches, and he didn't even look at my hands the second time."Absolutely not. Hazel, they sent three wolves into this house to drag you out by your hair. You want to walk into a field full of Lowes on the night Desmond's fighting for the right to own you?""I want to walk into the Council grounds," I signed. "It's neutral ground. No pack can touch anyone there without answering to Thatch.""Neutral ground didn't stop Sienna on Price land."That one landed. I put my hands down for a second.Jonah was leaning in the doorway with his arms folded. He hadn't said anything yet. He'd just watched me the way his grandfather watched people, as if he were weighing something."Why?" he asked quietly.I turned to him."Because if Desmond wins, I belong to his seat," I signed. "The law doesn't care whether I'm in Maine or standing in that
JULIAN'S POVHer name was Ruth Alvarez, and she had been deaf since she was two.She taught American Sign Language three nights a week in a community room above a laundromat in Somerville. I found her through a flyer on the bulletin board at the public library. I paid her for private lessons, cash, at nine at night after her last class had gone home, and I didn't tell anyone in the pack where I went.The first night, she watched me try to sign my own name and laughed so hard she had to sit down.She typed on her phone and held it up. You have big hands and no patience. Bad combination.I'd been told I had no patience by Alphas, Council elders, and my own Beta. It had never bothered me before."I need to learn fast," I said.She read my lips and shook her head. Then she typed again. Why?I thought about what to tell her. In the end I told her the truth, or the part a human could hear. My wife couldn't speak. She signed. My wife had left me. I'd been married to her for five years and ne
HAZEL'S POVI sat on the porch with the rubbing of the Blackwood seal in my lap until the sun went down.Somebody in that house had taken my family's file nine days after they burned. Somebody who sat at the same table I'd sat at for twenty years. Somebody whose son I'd married.I thought about Margaret's moonseed. I thought about Arthur, carrying me out of the ashes, and about the letter he'd written and left with Thatch instead of keeping it in his own house.Trust no one who tells you the fire was an accident.Who had told me that, all my life? Everyone. The pack. Margaret. Julian, once, when I was eight and had asked him why my family was dead and his wasn't."It was rogues," he'd said. "It was an accident. Stop asking."I didn't know whether he'd believed it. I didn't know anything about him anymore.Cole came out and sat on the step below me, moving carefully because of his stitches. He didn't say anything. After a while I showed him the rubbing.He looked at it for a long time.
JULIAN'S POVTeague put me on my back in the training ring for the fourth time in twenty minutes.He stood over me in fur, panting, with his ears flat. Then he shifted back and crouched down beside me with his hands on his knees."Again?" he asked.I lay on the packed dirt and looked at the sky. My wolf was still twisting inside me. Every time I tried to shift in the ring, he went for the rope behind my ribs instead of for Teague's throat, and I lost a half-second I didn't have. Against my Beta, a half-second meant a bruise. Against Desmond Lowe, it would mean my throat."Again," I said.We went again. He put me down again.Afterward, Milo brought us water. He'd come to every session since the hall. He had a yellowing bruise under one eye from where he'd hit the floor. He held the bottle out to me without being asked."Thanks," I said."My dad says you're not sleeping," Milo said.Teague cuffed the back of his head. Milo ducked and grinned.I drank the water and didn't answer. He was
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVEHAZEL'S POVThe cut along Cole's ribs wouldn't close.Any other wound would have started knitting by morning. A wolf could take a knife between the ribs and be walking by lunch. But this one was still open at dawn, the edges gray and raw, and it hadn't stopped bleeding."Silver," Cole said through his teeth. He was lying on the kitchen table on a pile of towels with his face the color of putty. "It'll heal like a human wound. Slowly. If it doesn't go bad first."I'd already boiled the water.My mother's notebook had a page on silver wounds. I'd read it a dozen times as a girl without knowing why she'd written it. Now I knew. I washed the cut with yarrow water until the gray edges turned pink. I packed it with comfrey and plantain and stitched it shut with the fine silk thread from my sewing kit, eleven stitches, while he gripped the edge of the table and stared at the ceiling.When I tied off the last one, he let out a long breath."Where did you learn that?"I tou







