Chapter 13: The Pack Votes

I woke in Torin's bed with his arm across my waist and sunlight on the quilt.

My body ached in places I had forgotten I owned.

I lay still and listened to the river.

For the first time in eight years, nobody in my head was pulling on a rope.

Torin was awake. I could tell by his breathing.

"Good morning, Alpha," I said.

"Clara."

I rolled over and propped my chin on his chest.

"A room," I said. "A seat at your table. A garden. And nothing else."

He stared at me.

Then his whole face cracked, and he laughed so hard the bed shook.

"You're quoting my terms at me," he said.

"You wrote them very clearly. I'm only asking whether the table counts. We used it."

"The table is yours."

"The kitchen wall?"

"Yours too." He caught my wrist and kissed the inside of it. "Everything in this house is yours. Now say that I'm a fool."

"You're a fool."

"Thank you."

I was grinning into his shoulder when somebody pounded on the front door.

Pia's voice carried up the stairs. "Clara! There's a Cedar Hollow runner here, and she's about to cry!"

I threw on my skirt and a sweater from the floor.

Torin pulled on jeans and followed me down, barefoot and unbothered.

The runner was a girl of seventeen from the east end, with mud to her knees.

"The council met at dawn," she said. "They want you in the hall at noon. All of you. Alpha Brask too."

"Why?" I said.

"A pack vote. On Rhett." She swallowed. "They're asking whether he stays Alpha."

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