Chapter 12: The King's Offer

The Alpha King's study smelled of old paper and wood smoke.

A fire burned low in the grate.

He sat behind a desk the size of a bed, with his black mantle hung on the back of his chair.

He didn't get up when I came in.

Dane stood at my shoulder.

The king looked at him once.

"Wait outside, Ardent."

"I'd rather stay."

"I know you would."

It was a long moment before Dane bowed his head and went out.

I felt him go through the new thread between us, taut as a held breath.

The door closed.

"Sit," said the king.

I sat.

"My physician tells me," he said, "that the girl my daughter chose has silver in her blood."

"The physician is mistaken, sire."

"Don't."

He said it quietly.

"I knew your mother, Brenna Cardross. I knew her father before her."

"I saw you in my hall on the day my daughter came home, and I knew you, and I let you stay."

I kept my hands still in my lap.

"Why?"

"Because I'm fifty-six years old and my daughter has no wolf."

He said it without any shame at all.

"You know," he said. "Dane told you. It's all right. He was always going to."

"Sire..."

"The clans are restless. The old alphas want a Marrow with teeth."

"For twenty-five years I've bought them quiet with promises and hides."

He folded his hands.

"It won't last. She has to stand in front of them at the Moon Rite and change, or she's finished."

"She can't."

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