Chapter 22: The Seat and the Cell

Calla's POV

Sixty wolves knelt on the grass, and my father stood in front of them with nobody behind him.

"Get up," Stanton said. His voice cracked. "All of you. Get up. The Council took my name, not my seat."

Nobody moved.

"Brennick law is blood law. I am your Alpha until a wolf beats me in the ring."

He turned and looked at me for the first time since the bowl.

"Is that what you want, Calla? You want my seat? Then take it."

I felt Jasper's hand close on my arm.

"Your shoulder's still open," he said, very low.

"I know."

"You can wait a day."

"If I wait a day, he'll tell them what he told himself for five years."

I took off the Council coat and handed it to him.

"I want them to see it tonight."

I stepped into the ring in a torn shirt and a pair of borrowed trousers.

My father stripped off his Alpha's coat and handed it to an elder.

His bones broke and rolled, and a huge gray wolf stood on the grass.

He was twice my weight.

I let my wolf come up.

The pain in my shoulder went white and then went away.

We circled.

He lunged first, and I went under his jaws and raked his flank.

He howled and wheeled and caught me across the back with his shoulder.

I hit the ground and rolled.

He came down on top of me, and his teeth closed around the muscle of my neck, right over the silver scar.

I felt every old burn wake up.

I thought of the cell, and of the car, and of his hand on my back at the gate.

*He put the ring back on you for the photographs,* my wolf said.

I twisted out from under him.

I went for his foreleg and then for his throat in one long arc.