Chapter 2 #2
Shanley’s throat bobbed. “With all due respect, that’s not why I’m up here.
” The Elders snapped their attention back to her.
“I’m up here to defend my pack member. He shouldn’t be held accountable for someone else’s bad behavior.
Did things go too far? Yeah. But that’s what happens when you’re pushed to the brink.
If Chet wasn’t already so bloodthirsty, I doubt anyone under my rule would have responded that way. ”
“Provoked or not,” Jesalynn said, her eyes flashing, “you know the punishment for breaking article nine.”
“I know.” Shanley’s voice twisted with the hint of a sob that felt like a jab to my gut. “And as his leader, I take responsibility. I’m here to take his sentence for him.”
“You’re willing to die for your pack member?” Jesalynn raised an arched brow, her face curious.
My blood froze.
Shanley gripped the sides of the podium. “I am.”
Mau shot up from her seat, fangs sharpening, hair lengthening, clothes already in ribbons on the floor, her furrowed stare fixed on the Elders, deadly.
Around me, the pop of dislocating joints rang in my ears and snarls echoed across the stone.
Towards the back of the amphitheater, someone shrieked, either in threat or in fear.
I gripped at my knees, holding myself still in the chaos, trying not to be sucked down by the crushing guilt. Death. Hot tears pricked my eyes. She hadn’t told me death was on the table.
It wasn’t fair. If I had known…
Chet’s toothy smile, the way his grip had stamped my wrist, the words that had spewed from his loose lips, flashed in my mind. And that gnawing fear, it still tore through me, like a set of sharp claws.
Ugh. I should have just ignored him at the bonfire—should have walked away from him at Grad Night, and even before then, when he’d locked eyes with me at that house party. Then it all would have played out so differently.
No one deserved to die for this. But mostly… Chet didn’t deserve to live.
I couldn’t help but glance over to where he sat. He hadn’t budged, seeming to relish the anarchy. He craned his neck towards me, raising his lip to show off his new pair of sharp, pointy teeth.
Put those damn things away. I glared at him.
He was ready for this.
Ready for blood.
“ENOUGH!” It wasn’t so much the command, but the underlying snarl that had me whipping my head towards the stage.
Shouts quieted. Bodies stilled. Tension swelled.
Mau froze in front of me in wolf form, poised to charge, silky black hair along her spine standing on end.
Ivan stood tall and feral, anger flashing like lightning in his dark eyes. I could still feel Chet’s hungry stare, practically salivating… I dug my fingertips into the slab of rock I sat on.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves and talk of death.
” Ivan left his perch, making his way across the platform one strong and purposeful step at a time.
Instead of stopping in the center, he headed towards the very lip—towards me.
Frowning, he glanced at the wolf in between us, her claws still indenting the concrete.
“Back down, Maureen. No matter how mad you are, you cannot evade the law.”
Déjà vu hit me harder than a sack of bricks. Those words: back down. They sounded too familiar, stirring a dark, anxious part of me. Ryder had given me that warning the last time I saw him, the night he betrayed me and handed me over to a demon—you can’t outrun them.
A growl trickled out of Mau’s throat. She eased off the stage, coming to sit at my feet.
Ivan’s lips twitched. “We need to give Chet and others a chance to speak.” He gestured across the aisle, and I fought to stop from looking at him again, my enemy sitting there grinning back at me.
Giddy. “Then we’ll discuss as a council and determine what happens from there.
No one is being sentenced to death”—his mouth quirked, like he was fighting some kind of grin as he slipped a final word under his breath—“yet.”
I shifted in my seat. How the hell was this funny?
Somebody’s life was up for grabs.
“Galloway, you’re dismissed,” Ivan said, returning to his throne. “Jennings, you’re up.”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Chet stirring, his thick frame tromping up one end of the stage, while Shanley dashed down the other and took the seat next to me.
He took his place behind the stand, an eerie sparkle in his eyes. “Thanks, Elder Ivan.”
My shoulders stiffened at his deep drawl. Full of authority. Full of confidence.
“And thank you, my great Elders.” It was no more than a purr as he turned to acknowledge the Council of the Moon. “For hosting this assembly and giving me a fair shot at joining the Pack.”
“Make your statement,” Jesalynn ordered, her tone making it clear she was not interested in the facade. Good. Maybe she’d be on my side.
“I can assure you the bonfire was nothing more than a…” He paused, throwing the final word at me. “Simple misunderstanding.”
My shoulders flinched as if he’d actually struck me.
Really? That’s what he wanted to call this?
There was no misunderstanding when he’d slipped off my clothes when I was blacked out drunk and he put his hands on me. No misunderstanding when he’d attacked me—and the others—at the bonfire because he couldn’t handle rejection.
Something cracked in my chest: a sob—my heart. Shanley squeezed my hand, which at some point had curled into a fist.
“I was having a little lovers’ quarrel.” He licked his lips as if the lie were sweet nectar. “It would’ve been resolved if Galloway had just stayed in her lane. But as you know, she likes to put her nose in other people’s problems.”
Unease washed over me in a cold sweat.
“We were close to hashing things out when this so-called Pack leader grabbed me by the shirt collar and chucked me into the crowd. Naturally, I bumped into a few people. Antonio was too belligerent to realize it was an accident.”
Shanley’s lips curled back, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks.
“He threw the first punch. What’s a guy to do?” He shrugged. “I defended myself.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” Shanley spat, a touch too loud in this quiet, dense space.
“Galloway!” Ivan bellowed from his throne.
“What?” Shanley hunched forward, resting her elbows on her bouncing knees. Hair had started to sprout from her ears. Oh, God. She was unraveling. This wasn’t good. “Respectfully—this is bullshit. Wolves are bound by honor and truth. How can you even entertain these lies?”
“Silence!” Ivan’s voice cracked off the massive rock formation like thunder. “You’ve had your time to speak.”
“Hardly,” Shanley grumbled. The Elder met her with a vicious stare.
Jesalynn cut in. “Regardless of who started it, we still have a very dangerous situation on our hands. A mortal has Turned, and the stories do not match up.”
“You’re right, Elder Jesalynn.” Chet smiled. It was disarming. “I’m the victim here. I was bitten. What reason would I have to lie?”
All the hair on the back of my neck prickled. Of course I knew Chet was lying but I didn’t get his motive. He’d absorbed all the strength and power he could ask for—he’d been granted a brand-new life. Shanley was trying to take the fall anyway. What was his play?
“Shanley has been part of this pack since she was a pup. Lying is not in her nature.” The Elder interlocked her fingers. “That said, I also know her loyalty is boundless and fierce.”
“I think it’s time we call up witnesses,” another Elder chimed in, his chin sharp and jutting, brows wiry and thick.
“Yes.” Jesalynn nodded in agreement. “The fledgling has made his statement.”
“Very well,” Ivan said.
Pangs of fear zapped my stomach.
“Who are we calling to the stand first?” Jesalynn asked.
Shanley stood, the breeze of her swift movement brushing my arm. “I’d like to invite my guest, River Harlow.”
The single other woman on the council took me in in one swift, speculative glance. “An outsider?”
“Ah.” Ivan clicked his tongue. “The Nephilim.”
Interesting tone there, but it wasn’t the first time someone spat the term at me like it was something to be ashamed of. I shrugged it off, choosing to focus on my breaths instead, keeping them even and deep.
Jesalynn pursed her lips. “Nephilim do not hold court here.”
“With all due respect, River’s more of a pack member than that mongrel is. She was there at the bonfire.” Shanley’s gaze turned glassy. “And on the receiving end of his antics.”
“These are Pack politics, not Empyrean.” Jesalynn tilted her chin, a tiny display of empathy. “Given the size of this gathering, I’m sure many others witnessed the altercation. Surely one of them is willing to take the stand?”
I gulped, a ball of fear lodging itself in my throat. Leaning back in my seat, I glanced down my row at Antonio, his head bowed.
“None of us had even heard of Chet before that night,” Shanley continued. “River has known him for years. If anyone can provide a true testament to his character, it’s her.”
“Regardless of their history, she does not hold the lycanthrope gene, therefore her words are inadmissible in this c—”
“I’ll allow it.” Ivan waved his hand before resting it back under his chin.
Jesalynn swiveled in her seat. “On what grounds?”
“Amendment to article fifteen of the Werewolf Accords—added after the turf war with the vampires in the eighties.”
A silver-haired Elder whistled, muttering, “Bloody time for those involved.”
Jesalynn’s face froze, incredulous.
Ivan shrugged, almost nonchalant. His eyes darted to Chet, who was still standing at the podium, something relayed in that narrowed stare.
Turning to face forward, Jesalynn asked Chet directly, “And what is your relationship to this witness?”
He brushed a wavy strand out of his face. “River and I have a complicated history.”
I bit down, pressure building in my temples.
It was simple, really. I said no, so he decided to set my world on fire.
“Explain,” she said carefully.