Chapter 22: The Court of Blackmoor

Eloise's POV

I took off my coat and handed it to Lucan.

I turned my head and lifted my hair off my left ear.

A hundred Lycans looked at the silver crescent low on my skin.

The queen of Blackmoor stepped close.

She was tall and lean, with grey hair cropped short and her son's grey eyes.

She smelled of snow and iron.

She put two fingers on the mark and held them there, and the mark warmed under her touch.

"Six years old," she said.

"Yes."

"Hidden by silk, and by a woman who was afraid of me."

She took her hand away.

"I would be afraid of me, too. Come inside, girl. We'll finish this where it's warm."

The hall of Blackmoor was long and high and cold, and it was filled to the rafters.

Two hundred Lycans lined the walls.

The queen walked the length of it and sat on a stone chair at the end.

Lucan stood at my side, and I could feel him wanting to take my hand.

I kept my hands at my sides.

"Eloise Garrow," the queen said. "Daughter of a man who died owing a pack. Former wife of an Alpha."

She settled her hands on the arms of the chair.

"Former Luna of a small territory at the edge of my treaty. I have read every grain figure you ever sent across my border."

"Thank you," I said.

"It was not a compliment. You wrote them in a clear hand and you never once asked me for anything."

She tilted her head.

"Why not?"

"Nobody told me I could."

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