Chapter 20: White Wolf

Solveig's POV

My shoulder was on fire, and I could taste the iron of my own blood.

The Beta stood in front of me with his sides heaving.

He was not looking at me.

He was looking over my head at the porch.

The man he had followed for thirty years had just told him to finish his daughter in front of the whole pack.

I did not wait for him to decide.

I went in low, the way I had learned to in the sparring ring at the Hold, and hit him at the knees.

He was big, and he was slow, and he came down.

I got my jaws around the thick fur of his neck and I held.

I did not bite down.

I only held.

His ribs went in and out under my paws.

Around the yard there was no sound at all.

Then the Beta made a short noise in his throat and let his head fall on the frozen ground, and his legs went slack.

He yielded.

"The Beta yields," the elder called, ringing her cane on the rail. "The champion is down. The seat is empty."

I let him go.

I stood over him for a moment, shaking, and then I stepped back and shifted.

It hurt more going back than going out.

I came up on my knees on the frost, in my torn undershirt, with blood running to my wrist.

Someone threw a cloak over my shoulders.

It was Asta, who had vaulted the rail, and the elder did not say a word about it.

"Don't," I said. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"You're not fine," my sister said. She was crying and laughing at once. "You are the worst person I know."

Over her shoulder, I saw Kjell step across the rail.

Keep reading free with an account. Start I Was Never Their First Choice from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.