Chapter 10: The Council Table

"He'll hurt you worse," Vivian said again, and her voice cracked on it.

Rowena pulled her shirt straight with both hands.

"You don't need to guard me, Vivian."

"The Council sits in an hour. Orson called it at dawn. I came to warn you."

She looked at Lachlan, and her eyes were wet.

"He wants the Alpha put under regency. Because of this."

Lachlan said nothing. His shirt was still untucked.

"Because of what?" Rowena asked.

"Because the Alpha can't shift, can't eat, can't think straight about you."

Vivian's chin trembled.

"That's how my father's putting it. I'm so sorry. I thought you should know before you walk in."

She turned and went, fast.

Rowena watched her go. She did not trust the feeling in her stomach, and she did not know why.

The Council hall was a plank room with long tables and a high ceiling.

Twelve elders sat along the back wall.

Orson sat in the middle of them with the signed paper flat in front of him.

The pack filled the benches.

Rowena took a place against the wall, with Junie and Hester on either side of her.

Lachlan walked down the centre aisle and stood alone in front of the Council.

He had tucked in his shirt. It did not hide anything.

"Alpha," Orson said, "it grieves us to bring this."

"Bring it."

"Two nights ago you could not stand without help. Yesterday you crawled across a public road."

"This morning you were seen at the fire stone, in no state, with the girl."

A murmur ran through the benches.

"We do not say you're to blame," Orson said smoothly. "We say you are sick, and a sick Alpha must not hold the seat."

"We propose a regency until Solstice. I will carry the weight. You will rest."

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