The Thirteenth Moon novel · Chapter 23 of 24

Chapter 23: Winter Table

Brynn's POV

I was in the cookhall at four the next morning, because nobody had told my hands any different.

The first snow had come in the night.

It lay a finger deep on the grounds, and the big stoves were cold.

I lit them one by one, and Torin came in behind me carrying the flour sacks without being asked.

"You're the Alpha," he said. "You could sleep."

"I could."

"Are you going to?"

"No."

By six the cookhall was full.

They came in stamping the snow off their boots.

The old man from the pass came first, then the baker, then the woman with the baby on her hip.

Nobody sat at the head of the long table.

They all looked at me.

"Where do you want us, Alpha?" the old man asked.

"Where you always sit," I said. "Eat."

I put the first pot of oats down in the middle of the table, and the whole room laughed.

It was the first time I'd heard it in thirteen moons.

I ladled bowls until my arm ached, and every one that went down the table came back empty.

At seven, Davin came in from the woodpile with sawdust in his hair and a bandage under his shirt.

The talk stopped for a moment.

He stood in the doorway with his hat in his hands.

"I'm here for the wood order," he said. "For the cookhall."

"Stack it by the back door," I said.

"Yes, Alpha."

He started to go.

"Davin."

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