Chapter 22: The Reckoning

"My son acted alone," Alpha Prentiss said.

He did not raise his voice.

He did not need to.

"A hot-blooded boy, robbed of his mate, who lost his head.

Redmoon regrets the knife.

Redmoon had no part in it."

"Father," Brant said.

"Be quiet."

"You put it in my hand."

Alpha Prentiss's face did not change.

"You told me the King would never yield," Brant said.

His voice was flat and raw, and it carried to the back of the lawn.

"You told me one cut was all it would take, and that no one would check a bandage on the heir.

You said it was the only way to get her back."

"Brant."

"You said you'd explain after."

Nobody breathed.

Ten days before, this man's son had rejected me in the Moon Hall with a smile.

I watched him now with numb attention.

He looked at me.

"I did try to kill him," he said.

"I'd have done it.

I want that known.

I'm not asking for anything."

The oldest elder lifted his cane.

"The Alphas of the nine packs will vote," he said.

"Hands."

They stood in their rings, one at a time.

The broad Alpha of Maple Run first, with her iron braids.

Then Eastwater.

Then the old man of the Black Pines.

Then the rest, until nine hands were in the air.

"Redmoon's Alpha is stripped of his seat on the council," said the oldest elder, "and of his house.

His petition for the regency is dead.

His son is stripped of his heir's right and exiled from the nine packs for as long as the council sees fit."

Alpha Prentiss's wife made a small sound.

Alpha Prentiss himself said nothing.

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