Zion is smirking. That same cruel twist of his lips I remember from when he captured my mother and me. When he destroyed my world.
Alaric looks furious. His jaw is clenched so tight, I can see the muscle jumping beneath his skin.
He never got my mother’s location out of me.
The thought brings a savage satisfaction. I may be dying, but she’s still free. Still out there somewhere. That has to count for something.
My gaze sweeps the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Anne. Sienna. Anyone who might mourn me when this is over.
Then, I see him.
Ryker sits in the section reserved for important guests: visiting alphas and their heirs. His jaw is tense, his hands gripping the armrests of his chair.
Our eyes meet across the arena.
He gives a faint nod. Subtle, so discreet that anyone watching would miss it.
Relief floods through me so suddenly that my knees go weak. The guards holding me tighten their grip to keep me upright.
She made it. My mother made it.
Ryker wouldn’t be here, wouldn’t be sitting calmly in the guest section, if something had gone wrong. He’d be in chains beside me. Or dead.
Thank you, I mouth silently.
He doesn’t respond. Just looks away, his expression carefully neutral.
The guards drag me to the exact center of the arena and force me to my knees. The impact jars my bones. I bite down hard on my lip to keep from crying out.
Four shifters approach from different directions.
They move with the coordinated precision ofwolves who have done this before. Who have practiced this. My stomach churns as I realize what they’re wearing.
Execution gear.
“For the crime of betraying the Alpha,” Zion’s voice rings out across the arena, amplified somehow so everyone can hear, “for the crime of attempting to harm this pack and harboring dangerous secrets, Violet Moonvale is condemned to be quartered.”
The word slams into me like a physical blow.
Quartered.
No. No, no, no.
This is how they are going to kill me. The four executioners will shift into their wolf forms. Then, the guards will tie my limbs to the wolves, who will run in four different directions, tearing me apart, piece by piece, while the entire pack watches.
My wolf howls inside me, frantic and terrified. She throws herself against the barriers of the spelled chains, desperate to break free. To fight. To survive.
But there’s nowhere to run.
The executioners move closer, their massive forms casting shadows across the stone. I can smell them, the musk and the wildness and the death.
One approaches my right arm. Another my left. Two more position themselves at my legs.
I’m going to die. Right here, right now, literally torn apart in front of everyone.
And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Chapter Twenty-Five
