Chapter 19 A Promise Before Moonrise #2
The word came from the wolf as much as the man.
Ronan heard that too. For the first time since the bite, I saw the full truth reach him.
If pack law required Cassie’s death, I would break pack law.
If council law called her false, I would kill the wolves sent to prove it.
If Ronan himself stood between me and keeping her alive, brotherhood would not be enough to stop the wolf.
His eyes hardened, but something underneath them shifted. Grief, maybe. Or the first shape of fear.
“You would choose her over the pack,” he said.
Cassie’s breath caught behind me.
I didn’t look away from my brother. “I would choose her life over their comfort.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“It is the only answer I have.”
Ronan stared at me as if he could still find the brother who had followed his orders into every dark room the pack required. I was still that man. That was the problem. I knew too well what obedience cost the person placed on the table.
Sava stepped between us before Ronan could answer.
“No,” she said.
Ronan’s gaze moved to her slowly. “No?”
“No. You are not having this argument in front of her, in this room, on the morning of the hunt, while she is naked under a sheet and your brother is two breaths away from putting you through a wall.”
Cassie said, “I’m not entirely naked.”
Sava didn’t look back. “That is not helping.”
“Noted.”
Sava pointed at Ronan. “You will leave for five minutes.”
Ronan’s expression could have frozen water. “This is my house.”
“And she is my patient. Leave, or I will start using words like rut, imprint stress, and preventable collapse in front of every guard in the hall.”
Ronan looked furious enough to argue.
Then his eyes moved to Cassie again. She sat straight-backed in the bed, sheet clutched under one arm, chin lifted, cheeks flushed with anger and no small amount of embarrassment.
The bond carried too much from her for me to separate all of it.
Fear. Defiance. The raw tenderness left from waking in my arms. The humiliation of being seen and discussed before she had even been given a robe.
Ronan saw enough.
His mouth tightened. “Five minutes.”
He left, shutting the door with more force than necessary.
Sava turned to me. “Bathroom. Shirt. Now.”
I didn’t move until Cassie spoke.
“Go,” she said, quieter now.
I turned enough to see her. Her eyes met mine. Angry, embarrassed, alive. Still with me.
So I went. When I came back in a clean shirt, Sava had helped Cassie into a robe and was taking her blood pressure with the expression of a woman prepared to murder everyone in the room by order of inconvenience.
Cassie looked at me. “You could have told me about the murder chorus earlier.”
“I should have.”
“Yes.”
“I am sorry.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened on that, and the bond warmed in a way that hurt.
Sava ripped the cuff free with more efficiency than gentleness. “You are both going to listen to me now.”
Cassie looked at her. “Do we have a choice?”
“No.”
“Refreshing.”
Sava ignored that. “Get through tonight. That is the plan. Not forever. Not the full moon. Not what the council wants next or what Ronan thinks next or what either of you have decided this means next. Tonight. Survive the hunt first, then we worry about the next next.”
Cassie frowned. “The next next?”
“Yes. The next problem after the immediate death problem.”
“That is horrible terminology.”
“It is accurate.”
Sava looked at me. “You do not get to solve the full moon today. You do not get to kill every possible threat before sunset, though I can see you considering it. You focus on the course, the hunters, her limits, and your control.”
Then she looked at Cassie. “You eat. You hydrate. You tell me when something hurts, and you do not treat pain like a personal failing.”
Cassie opened her mouth.
Sava lifted one finger. “If you argue, I will bring back Ronan.”
Cassie closed her mouth.
“Excellent,” Sava said. “Progress.”
The five minutes lasted almost eight.
Ronan returned with Lucien, a tray of food, and the expression of a man who had spent his absence deciding which emotions were least useful and burying all of them alive.
Lucien, mercifully, didn’t look at the bed.
He set the tray on the table. “Breakfast.”
Cassie looked at the covered dishes. “If there’s no coffee, I’m defecting to Evelyn.”
“There is coffee,” Lucien said with a small smile.
“You may live.”
He inclined his head. “A relief.”
Ronan remained near the door. “We have until moonrise. The council witnesses arrive at dusk. The course opens one hour after that.”
Cassie picked up the coffee with both hands. “And the other hunters?”
Ronan’s eyes cut to me. I didn’t look away.
Cassie took a sip. “Don’t bother glaring at him. I asked. He answered. It was very novel.”
Lucien, wisely, looked at the tray.
Ronan exhaled through his nose. “Three challenge wolves.”
“Names,” I said.
“Daren Holloway. Micah Holloway. Tomas Greer.”
“Greer?” I asked.
“He is council neutral.”
“He is Malrec’s dinner guest twice a month.”
Ronan’s mouth tightened. “He is the least compromised option they would accept.”
“He is compromised.”
“Yes.”
Cassie set the coffee down. “Comforting.”
Ronan looked at her. “The terms are this. You enter the course first from the south gate. You have fifteen minutes before Ian is released from the west gate. The challenge wolves are released from the east gate ten minutes after Ian.”
“So I get a head start from everyone.”
“Yes.”
“And Ian gets a head start from the wolves trying to kill me.”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly. “That is almost thoughtful, in a completely unhinged way.”
“They cannot kill you before Ian has reasonable chance to find you,” Ronan said.
Cassie stared at him.
Sava muttered, “Ronan.”
“What?” he asked.
“Listen to yourself occasionally.”
Ronan looked annoyed but said nothing.
Cormac arrived before noon with a map, three old-law citations, and a warning that Malrec was already arguing the hunt course had been softened too much for a human.
Cassie sat in a chair near the windows, dressed again in her own clothes because Sava had decided morale had medical value after all. She wore dark leggings, a loose shirt, and shoes she could run in, though running remained a generous word for what her body could safely manage.
Ian stood behind her chair, not touching, while Ronan spread the map over the low table.
“The south gate opens here,” Ronan said, pointing to the lower edge. “You take the inner lane first. Do not go toward the ravine. Do not cross the old wall. If you reach the creek bed, stay to the dry stones and avoid the moss. It will slip under your feet.”
Cassie leaned over the map. “Where are they coming from?”
Ronan pointed. “East.”
“And Ian?”
“West.”
“So I should go north first.”
“No,” I said.
She turned to me.
“That is what they expect,” I said. “North gives distance, but it gives them wind. Your scent will carry along the rise.”
Her eyes moved back to the map. “Then where?”
“Into bad air.”
Cormac smiled faintly. “Practical.”
Cassie gave him a look. “I’m going to need that translated.”
I leaned down, careful to keep space between my hand and her shoulder as I pointed to the broken ruins near the center.
“Stone holds scent poorly. Hedges catch it. The dry creek breaks it. If you move along this wall, then cross here, you can make three trails before taking cover in the still pocket.”
“Like the one from training?”
“Close.”
She studied the map, absorbing faster than Ronan seemed to expect.
“What about the challenge wolves?” she asked. “Can they use the same scent tricks?”
“Yes,” I said. “But they do not know you. They will follow the easiest trail first because they will think you are human and frightened.”
“I will be human and frightened.”
“Yes,” I said. “But not easy.”
Her gaze lifted to mine and the bond warmed. Ronan saw it and looked away with visible effort.
Good. Let him be uncomfortable.