Chapter 22: The Gate

Caius's POV

The mark on my shoulder was still warm when I reached the south gate.

I had pulled on my shirt in the corridor and not finished the buttons.

Marlo came down the drive beside me in the green dress, barefoot on the gravel, with her hand on my arm.

She had put it there in front of the guards without thinking, and I felt every finger.

Dane stood on the far side of the iron bars.

He had no coat.

He had been walking for hours, from the look of his shoes.

The envoy was already there, with two of the Alphas from the half circle.

They had come down to listen, and none of them looked comfortable.

"I'm not here to fight," Dane said.

"Then you walked a long way for nothing," I said.

My hand wanted the gate.

My wolf had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

The mark on my shoulder told it to be still.

I stayed still.

"I'm asking for the last table," Dane said. "Under the old custom."

"Say the custom," the envoy said, drily.

"A struck Alpha may ask the King for one hand, to stake what he has left against the thing he lost."

"It's been used twice in a hundred years," one of the Alphas said. "Both times the man lost."

"I know."

"What have you got to stake?" I said.

"Nothing." Dane looked at the ground. "My name. My word."

"They're worth nothing."

"I know that, too."

He raised his eyes and looked straight at Marlo.

I felt her hand tighten on my arm.

"I'll play her," Dane said. "Not you. I want to play her."

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