Deryn sputtered. “You admit thereissomething!”
“Oh, certainly,” the shaman replied. “Strong. Old. Loud. Makes my joints ache.” He rotated his shoulder with a grimace as if that proved his point.
“Then Wolfe must submit to the rite,” Deryn snapped triumphantly. “To verify he hasn’t stolen?—”
“Stolen?” The shaman raised a brow. “What exactly would he have stolen? A river? A cliffside? The pulse of the Hollow itself? Hard things to pocket.”
The hall broke into stifled laughter.
Deryn slammed his palm onto the table. “Silence!”
“No,” the shaman said, with such quiet finality that the torches flickered. “Youshould be silent.” Silence slammed into the room like a dropped stone. The shaman pointed at Deryn’s chest, unimpressed. “You drag wolves from their homes. You poke sleeping magic with sticks. You accuse a bonded pair—carrying the next alpha, no less—of treason.And for what purpose?” He tilted his head. “Control? Ego? Fear?”
Deryn’s nostrils flared. “We have cause.”
“Cause.” The shaman rolled his eyes. “Your cause is rot. Old, stale rot. Enough.” Several of the alphas on the Council winced.
Then the shaman turned to me again, expression shifting from bored to razor-sharp. “You didn’t steal anything,” he said. “You didn’t force anything. You didn’t rise above your station—your station rose to meetyou.That is all Alpha Wolfe. It rose, and you met it.” A heavy beat of silence. “A claim like yours,” he continued, “cannot be faked. Cannot be forged. Cannot be ‘tested’ in some little bowl.” He glanced at the steaming ritual bowl, nose wrinkling. “Ugly thing,” he muttered. “Smells like boiled moss. That’s not right at all.”
Rowen’s hand tightened around mine. I felt her wolf watching him carefully. Trusting him. Not entirely, but enough.
Deryn, however, looked like a man who was ready to go to war. “This shaman does not speak for the entire Pack Council,” he snapped. “He cannot overrule the rite?—”
“Oh, but I can,” the shaman said, and he smiled. It wasn’t kind, wasn’t gentle. It was one of power. “The grace of Luna herself is in my bones, Alpha Deryn, and she is not impressed with this Pack Council.” He slowly looked around at the ones gathered. “I outrank you,” the shaman said simply.
“Outrank!” Deryn sputtered.
The shaman tapped his foot twice on the ground. Thefloor shivered, and I felt something under the soil answer him.
Old magic. Older than the Pack Council. Older than any pack.
The shaman looked at me then, all humor gone. “The Hollow and Stonefang are not yours to claim. They are yours tocarry,” he said. “You are strong, Wolfe, you need to be; you will be tested soon enough.”
I swallowed hard, feeling Rowen press closer to me. Killian took a step closer in silent readiness.
Diesel whispered in my head. “I told you shamans were trouble.”
The shaman sat back down with a grunt, turning to Deryn with a smile so sharp it could cut steel. “Well,” he said cheerfully, “anything else?”
Deryn clenched his jaw. His knuckles whitened. He looked like a man who’d lost before he even got the chance to play.
And the shaman watched him, waiting.
Ready. Almost eager.
And I wondered if I’d just gotten pulled into a different battle completely.
Chapter 16
Rowen
The four ofus looked at each other, and I don’t think any of us felt we had the right words.
“That was a shitshow.”
I hid my smile. Okay, Diesel had the right words. How would I doubt that the gruff “fuck you all” beta would be silent?
“Before or after you spoke?” Wolfe growled as he looked out over the gathered tents. We’d been sent to this side chamber to wait for a “decision.” It seemed pointless after everything the shaman had just done, but still, Wolfe would give them no room to say he hadn’t complied in every way.
