Chapter 8: The Heir

"Marcus," I said.

"He walked in, walked out, and twenty minutes later my guard found the cell door hanging open."

"Where's the guard?"

"Sitting in my kitchen with a knot on his head the size of an egg."

I was already pulling on my jeans.

"The summit lunch is at noon," I said.

"Mireya."

It was the first time he'd ever called me that.

"Don't do anything I can't follow," he said.

"Then follow."

The summit lunch was on the long lawn behind the Callahan lodge.

White tents. Long tables. Pitchers of lemonade sweating in the heat.

Every pack sat together.

The Ironclaw wolves had the table nearest the pond.

Celia sat at the head of it in a white sundress and a wide straw hat.

My mother's moonstone lay against her collarbone.

Dominic sat beside her.

Marcus sat three seats down, eating nothing.

I walked straight across the grass.

Rhett walked one step behind me.

Conversations stopped table by table as we passed.

I stopped at the end of the Ironclaw table.

"Morning, Marcus," I said.

He didn't look up.

"Did you find your phone last night?"

Marcus's fork stopped.

Dominic set his glass down. "What is this?"

"A rogue named Judd Rawlins tried to kill me on my own street last night," I said.

I said it to the whole lawn.

"Rhett caught him. Put him in a cell. This morning the cell was empty. The last man seen near it was your Beta."

The Ironclaw table turned to look at Marcus.

Marcus had gone gray.

"I went back for my phone," he said. "I left it on the guard desk. That's all."

"Rawlins had a phone too," I said.

Rhett held it up.

The cracked case caught the sun.

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