Chapter 12: Full Moon Hall

The moon cleared the hall's roof beam at 8:14, and Duncan took off his shirt.

Four hundred wolves stood in a ring on the plank floor with nothing left to say.

The old women had hung lanterns on every post.

The healer with the silver glasses sat at the front, with her bag on her knees.

She had agreed to be the witness who couldn't be bought.

Orson stood at the wall again.

He had not made one joke all evening, and that worried me more than anything.

I stood beside the council table with my hand on the curve of my stomach.

I was not a Luna, and I was not a guest.

I was just a woman about to find out what had been done to her.

"Chelsea Lowell," said the old woman with the white braids. "Come forward."

Chelsea came, slowly, in her cream coat.

She had done her hair, and she had put on color.

"I don't understand why I have to be here," she said, in a small trembling voice. "I'm so tired. Duncan, if this hurts me..."

"It will only hurt you if you're sick," Duncan said.

"I am sick."

"Then the healer will catch you."

He didn't say it unkindly.

He said it.

He knelt in the center of the ring with both palms flat on the planks.

His ribs showed.

I had not seen him without a shirt in a month, and I had to look away from how he looked.

"I gave this freely," Duncan said.

"I took an oath over it in the dark, and I broke faith with my wife by keeping it."

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