Chapter 24: One Pull

They crowned me at moonrise, in the ring of grey stones on the hill.

The moon was still full, big and white over the east stone, the same moon that had watched me refuse a cup of silver.

Four thousand soldiers of the Ninth stood on the slope below.

Beside them stood the Redmoor wolves, the Silverlake wolves, the old king's healer in a clean white shawl, and the Chancellery guard, bareheaded.

My captain stood at the front of the Host.

They had let her out of the cells at noon, and she was crying openly and did not care who saw it.

Eira stood beside her with her arm in a sling and a grin she could not hold in.

The oldest Alpha set the crown on my head with both hands.

It was a plain circlet of dark iron, not gold.

It was heavier than it looked.

"Brenna Furnival," she said, loud enough for the slope.

"Crown Wolf of Varnmark."

I heard the Host roar.

I did not kneel, and neither did anyone else.

Nobody had been asked to.

Eira came up the steps and took my right hand.

"You've carried that ring in your pocket for two days," she said.

"Put it on."

I took my mother's ring out and slid it on my finger, and it fit.

"Thank you," I said.

"General," Eira said, "I mean, Your Majesty, I'm going to cry now."

"Go ahead."

She did, loudly.

The oldest Alpha raised her stick.

"The Crown Wolf names her mates," she said.

"She is permitted two, by the new law, if each comes freely.

"Let each of them speak."

Jorund stepped into the ring first.

He stood in the white light with his burned wrists bare and his black coat open at the throat.

"I am Jorund Segrave, Alpha of Redmoor," he said.

"I wanted her when she was my enemy.

"I wanted her when I thought I could not trust my own legs.

"I want her now, in front of every wolf in Varnmark, and the want is mine."

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