Chapter 12: The Key

Tilda's POV

Garrick stood up out of the dark with his hand pressed to his ribs and stared at me.

"How did you get down here?" he said.

"The younger enforcer gave me the key."

"He what?"

"I told him I'd forgive the knife if he opened one door." I stepped aside. "Walk."

He came out of the cell in his socks.

His eyes went over my face, my hair and my hands.

"Tilda, they'll call it a break-out."

"Let them."

"They'll void my seat."

"Then I'll make them do it with me standing next to you."

The stairwell opened into the Council hall, a long wooden room with a stone hearth.

Eleven Blood Moon wolves stood between us and the doors.

Four were enforcers I knew.

None of them moved.

I walked straight toward them, with Garrick one step behind me and Dorian's four wolves at my back.

"Tilda," said the older enforcer, the gray-haired one. "Don't make us stop you."

"You gave me knife lessons when I was fifteen. Do you want to stop me?"

His mouth tightened.

"No."

"Then don't."

I walked on.

The line of wolves broke in the middle, one at a time, and let us pass.

Nobody touched him.

At the doors I turned and looked at every face in that hall.

"The Alpha spoke the truth at Iron Hollow's gate," I said, loud enough to carry.

"I heard him. So did half of you. If the Council wants to punish a man for that, it can do it in front of me."

Then I pushed the doors open, and the cold daylight hit my face.

We did not talk in the truck.

Dorian's driver took us up the ridge and let us out at the line cabin as the light was going.

"I'll be at the sawmill," Dorian said through the window. "Three hours. Then I come and look for you."

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