I Cut My Alpha's Bond, So the Lycan King Came Hunting novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Home Is a Truck Stop

Cassia's POV

Nobody warns you that being right feels like standing in an empty room.

I woke in room three at Dunlap's with a swollen jaw and a cut on my forehead.

For a full minute I did not remember what I had won.

Then I did, and I lay looking at the ceiling.

Ansgar was dead.

The valley was open.

Eckert's lie was in the record, in the Speaker's own hand, and nobody would ever say the Lowwater shooter was a monster again.

I was free.

I was thirty hours into it and I could not feel my feet.

I got up, washed, and went down to the diner.

The prisoners were gone, released into the Court's custody the night before.

The vets were at the counter in a row, eating pancakes, and every one of them stopped chewing when I came in.

"Sit," Mercy said, and put a plate in front of a stool.

"I'm not hungry," I said.

"Sit, eat, and don't be stupid. You've been a hero for a day and a half, and you're still the ugliest Sergeant in the Fourth."

"It's the cut."

"It's the face." She poured coffee. "Eat."

I ate.

The trucker-cap woman came and sat on my left, with her knife on the counter.

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