Chapter 12: Silver Eyes

At dusk the great hall blazed with a hundred candles, and I walked in behind Melody carrying six feet of her silk train.

It was pale green, the pack's color for a Luna.

Two hundred wolves stood along the tables and watched the beta's daughter go by.

Melody held her chin high and did not look back at me once.

I kept my head bowed, watching the floor.

My wolf paced inside me.

"Not yet," my wolf said. "Wait for the old woman's sign."

Garrick stood at the head table with a silver cup in his hands.

It was wide and old, with a wolf's head worked into the rim.

It sat on a stand of black wood, and a pitcher of red wine stood beside it.

Cade stood at his father's right.

He had washed and put on a dark jacket.

His face was blank and hard, and he did not look at me either.

My heart hurt, and I kept walking.

"Pack of Blackpine," Garrick said, and the hall went silent. "Tonight my son takes a Luna. The beta's daughter, Melody Kensley, goes to the ring."

A cheer went up.

Melody stepped up beside Cade and held out her hand.

He did not take it.

"First," Garrick said, raising a finger, "the cup. The omega Harrow will pour."

I put down the train and walked to the stand.

The pitcher was heavy, and my hands were steady.

I tipped the wine into the old cup, and it rose dark and slow.

"Now," Garrick said, "as the law has it. Omegas kneel to the cup."

The omegas along the wall went down at once.

Women and boys and old men from the kitchen dropped to their knees on the stone with their heads bowed.

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