Chapter 17: The Wake

Blackwater buried its Alpha in a pine meadow behind the estate, and every wolf in the pack came.

I wore a black wool dress from the back of Ronan's guest closet.

Over it I wore a coat of his that was far too big.

Joey held my right hand, and June held my left.

Ronan walked a half step behind me, and the Beta and his wife walked behind him.

At the edge of the meadow I felt the pack before I saw it.

Three hundred wolves stood in rows among the pines.

As I came through the gap in the fence, they began to turn.

The first row turned its back, and then the second.

I heard boots shift on the pine needles, one after another, down the whole long meadow.

My throat closed.

For six years this pack had liked me, at barbecues and baby showers and every Solstice.

Now I was looking at three hundred backs.

"Keep walking," Ronan said, very low.

"I am."

"I've got you."

"I know."

I took a step, and another, and the backs swung slowly past me on either side.

Then June spoke, loud and clear in the silence.

"Why is everybody looking at the trees?"

A woman near the front made a sound that was half laugh and half sob.

"They're being rude, sweetheart," I said.

"Dad says it's rude not to look at people when you talk," June said.

"Lorna says it's the worst thing a person can do."

Nobody laughed, but two shoulders shook.

We kept walking.

Halfway down the meadow, the old man from the courtroom, the one who had stood up and stared at me, turned around.

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