We’re fucked, she mouthed.
My stomach dropped.
“We already know who’s responsible for this.” The Elder’s dark brown stare roved the front row, landing on a Santa Cruz City Pack member a few people away from me.
Antonio ducked his head, a fierce shade of red spreading over his suntanned cheeks.
To me, Chet had always been a predator. In fact, I’d almost forgotten he was just a mortal dude before the bonfire. And while it royally sucked that he had literal fangs and claws and some form of supernatural power now… it was hard to hate the one who bit him. Antonio hadn’t meant to Turn him. And Chet threw the first words, landed the first punch.
I’d fought back too that night—a couple nights, actually—I just didn’t happen to possess the gene that turned someone into a werewolf.
“As leader, Shanley will take ownership of her pack’s actions and walk us through what happened before we call witnesses and determine a resolution.” Quirking his fingers, the Elder beckoned her forward. “As the bylaws require.”
Shanley stirred beside me, her throat bobbing as she let go of Mau’s hand and trudged up the small set of stairs that led to the stage. She slid behind a podium that blended in so well with the rock, I hadn’t even noticed it at first.
“With gratitude, Elder Ivan.” Resting her forearms on the stand’s surface, she took a deep breath. “The night of the Strawberry Moon, Chet Jennings found his way to our monthly bonfire. Still unclear who invited him or how he found out about it, but at this point, I doubt anyone is brave or stupid enough to admit it.”
It had gone so eerily still, even the air felt tighter—as if everyone had sucked in a breath and was holding it in.
“Not only was Chet a bother to my pack—he was a dick to my guests, crossing lines from the moment he arrived.”
“Why were mortals invited to this gathering in the first place?” the woman on Ivan’s left demanded. She jutted out her hand, chunky emeralds and sapphires glinting from the rings on her fingers, her skin as dark as the midnight sky. “This situation could have easily been avoided.”
The others nodded.
“You’re right, Elder Jesalynn.” Shanley dipped her chin. “As a result, we’ve postponed any future large gatherings.”
“It’s a step,” Jesalynn said, glancing at the Elders, “but these events need to be outlawed completely.”
Aside from Ivan, who narrowed his eyes at something in the distance, the remaining three mumbled their agreement. I resisted the urge to turn around to see what he was so interested in—I owed my friend my full focus.
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.
