Chapter 8: Her Guard

"That's a lie," I said.

It came out of me before I could think.

Every head on the benches turned.

"Careful, girl," Arlis said gently. "You're standing in this hall on a thirty-day pardon."

"He couldn't have sent that man. He was with me."

"He was with you." Arlis let it sit. "His mate. His stepsister. The handler he's been hiding since supper."

Somebody laughed on the back bench.

"I was there too," Bowie said. "Whole afternoon. Bad gravy. I'll swear to it."

"His Beta," Arlis said. "His best friend since you were six."

He turned to the room.

"A dead man named my nephew. My nephew's alibi is the two people in this pack who'd lie for him. I take no joy in it."

He took plenty of joy in it.

I could smell it on him under the mint.

Deacon hadn't moved.

He stood beside me with his hands loose and his face.

"I never sent anyone," he said to his father. "You know I didn't."

The Alpha looked at his son for a long time.

I watched it cost him.

"I know what I believe," Abner said finally. "I also know what the pack heard."

He drew himself up.

"Until this is settled, my son stands down as heir."

The sound that went through the hall was wind in dry leaves.

Deacon's whole body went rigid.

Then he bowed his head.

"Yes, Alpha," he said.

He didn't argue.

I wanted to shake him.

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