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 façade. 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.
