Mated to My Step-brother and His Best Friend novel · Chapter 2 of 32

Chapter 2: Thirty Days

With Arlis demanding her death, Dovie bets her life in front of the hall that she can name the shooter by the Hunter's Moon, and ends the night in a room that opens onto Deacon's.

"Mine."

The word sat in the hall.

Nobody moved.

Then Arlis laughed, short and dry.

"Well," he said. "Isn't that convenient for her."

Deacon still had my arm.

His grip had gone loose.

The heat hadn't gone anywhere.

It ran from his palm into my skin and straight down into my stomach.

I hated how much I wanted to lean into it.

I pulled my arm free.

He let me.

"Abner," Arlis said. "You know the law. I won't insult you by reciting it."

"Then don't," the Alpha said.

"A handler sat at your table and confessed it in front of forty witnesses." Arlis spread his hands. "The Silver Law doesn't ask who she's mated to."

At the far end of the table, an old wolf with a white beard nodded slowly.

My mother had pointed him out over the soup. The Elder.

"It's the law, Alpha," he said. "It's been the law for a hundred years."

The two big wolves from the wall came forward again.

Deacon stepped in front of me.

He didn't say a word.

He just stood there, broad as a door, between me and them.

A second later Bowie was beside him, his napkin still tucked into his collar.

"Sorry, fellas," Bowie said. "I've got a thing about people dragging her places. Recent development."

"Step aside, Beta," Arlis said.

"Can't. My legs stopped working."

"Deacon."

"No," Deacon said.

It was the first word he'd ever said for me instead of against me.

I didn't trust it.

I didn't trust the heat either.

The bond was a minute old, and a minute before that he'd called me a thief.

I wasn't going to stand behind him and let him decide whether I lived.

I stepped out from between them.

"Alpha," I said.

Abner looked at me.

He had Deacon's grey eyes, older and more tired.

"You were going to ride on Graylick at the Hunter's Moon," I said. "For a ring."

"I was."

"Nobody in Graylick raided your land. Somebody told you we did."

I pointed at the black pellets scattered across the white cloth.

"And somebody shot your son with those."

"So you say," Arlis said.

"So I say." I kept my eyes on the Alpha. "Give me until the Hunter's Moon. Thirty days."

"For what?" the Elder said.

"I'll name the wolf who loaded those shells. In this hall. In front of all of you."

"And if you can't?"

"Then I walk into your cells myself, and you ride."

My mother said my name.

I didn't look at her.

If I looked at her, I'd stop.

"And if I can," I said, "you leave Graylick alone for good. And you pardon me."

Arlis smiled.

"She'll run the first night, brother."

"She won't," Deacon said.

Every head turned to him.

"She lives in this house," he said. "Under my guard. She doesn't take a step I don't see."

"I'm not a dog," I said.

"No." He didn't look at me. "You're the woman who owes my father a ring."

"Deacon," Bowie said. "Come on, man."

The Alpha picked up one pellet and rolled it between his thick fingers.

He looked at it a long time.

Then he looked down the table at his brother.

Arlis looked back, easy, a hand resting at the open collar of his shirt.

"Thirty days," Abner said. "She lives in this house, under my son's guard. Nobody lays a hand on her without my word."

"Abner, she's a handler."

"She's my wife's daughter," the Alpha said. "Thirty days, Arlis."

Arlis bowed his head.

The mint smell came off him so strong my eyes watered.

The table broke into noise.

I knelt on my chair and gathered the pellets back into the jar, one by one, counting out loud.

Nobody helped me.

"Twenty-three," I said, and screwed the lid on.

A big hand came down flat beside the jar.

Deacon.

"Evidence goes where I can watch it," he said.

"So it can disappear like your ring?"

His jaw went tight.

"I keep a gun safe in my room. You'll see the combination. You can count them every morning."

"I will."

"I know you will."

I let him take the jar.

My mother caught my sleeve as I passed.

Her eyes were wet and her mouth was angry, both at once.

"What did you do?" she whispered.

"What you called me up here to do," I said. "I'm saving the town."

Deacon walked me up the main stairs without touching me.

Bowie trailed behind us, finally pulling the napkin out of his collar.

"For the record," he said, "I'm on your side. I'm just also on his side. It's a whole thing."

"Goodnight, Bowie," Deacon said.

"I'm going. I'm going."

The room at the end of the hall had a quilt on the bed and a window over the black lake.

It was bigger than my trailer.

Deacon set my bag inside the door.

He set the jar on the dresser where I could see it, and then he picked it back up.

"Safe," he said. "Every morning."

"Every morning."

He went out.

I heard his footsteps go down the hall.

Then I heard them come into the room next to mine.

That was when I noticed the second door.

It sat in the wall beside the dresser, painted the same cream as the plaster.

I crossed to it and turned the knob.

It opened an inch.

On the other side, a lamp clicked on.

I shut it fast.

I looked for the lock.

On my side there was only the knob.

The bolt was on his.

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