Chapter 13: The Letter

The back door opened, and Lachlan filled the frame.

He had followed me down from the hall, and he had been standing in the yard for ten minutes, listening.

Mirabel went white and backed into the jam shelves.

"Sit down, girl," Pearl told her. "He won't touch you. I raised him."

Lachlan looked at the envelope in my hand.

"Give it to me," he said.

I gave it to him.

He read the page once, standing, and the paper began to shake.

Then the kitchen table cracked down the middle under his fist.

A jar of plums rolled off the shelf and burst on the floor.

"Six months," he said. His voice had dropped to a growl. "He's had this for six months."

"Before the pregnancy," Mirabel whispered. "He told me about Luna after."

"He is my brother's son," Lachlan said. "I held him at his naming."

"And now you want him dead," I said.

"I want him on the ground."

"I want him on the ground too," I said. "In front of the whole pack, with his mouth open."

Lachlan turned his head.

"If you break his neck in this kitchen, his mother burns that letter, and the pack says the Alpha killed his own heir to keep a chair," I said.

"If you wave it at the council, she says it's forged, and the council believes her."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want somebody else to hold it," I said. "Somebody the pack already watched go down on her knees."

I turned to Mirabel.

She stared at me.

"Keep it," I said. "Sew it into your coat. Don't show it to anyone, and don't go near Cade."

"Why me?" she said. Her chin was wobbling.

"Because you're the only one he would never think to search."

She took the envelope in both hands.

"When?" she asked.

"When he stands in front of the pack and says something he can't take back. I'll tell you."

Mirabel nodded and slipped out the back door with her collar up.

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