Chapter 7: The Ring in the Bowl

I didn't drive out that night.

I drove home, slept nine hours in the boathouse, and woke up clear.

Breakfast in the great hall is the one meal Night Whispers shares. Porridge, toast, tea in big brown pots. Three hundred wolves and their pups.

I walked in at half past seven in my cream cardigan and jeans.

The noise dropped as I came down the middle of the hall.

The same path Duncan had taken to find her.

He was at the Alpha's table with Bethany on his right. In my seat.

She was glowing. Hair loose, skin pink, wearing one of his shirts with the sleeves rolled up.

She saw me and put her hand on his arm.

Duncan stood. "Mischa. You're all right."

"No thanks to you."

His face fell. "I came back. I came back at lunchtime. You'd gone."

"It broke at dawn, Duncan. You were twelve hours late."

The tables nearest us had stopped eating.

I took the sock out of my handbag, unwrapped the vial, and set it on the table in front of him.

Right between the butter dish and his porridge.

"This was on my porch when my heat broke. Paul found me holding it."

Paul, at the Gamma's table, stood up so everyone could see him. "She did."

"It's heat oil," I said. "It brings a heat on early. Look at the stopper."

Duncan picked it up.

He turned it in his fingers, and I watched him see the hare.

The wolves at the near tables saw it too. A whisper ran back down the hall.

"Harrow Fell."

Bethany laughed. It was a good laugh, bright and puzzled.

"I've never seen that in my life. Anyone could have a bottle like that. Half the north buys from Daddy's shop."

"Your daddy has a shop now?"

"Why would I go near her porch?" She turned to the hall. "I was in my own heat. I couldn't even stand. Ask the Alpha."

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