Chapter 9: The Elders Cross the Floor

"Say it again," I said.

Gareth stood with his arm across Cora's chest and did not answer.

"You said, my daughter."

"A slip," he said. "I have lost a child this week. My mind is not clear."

"You have lost a child," I said. "And you shielded the one who poured the poison."

A low whisper started in the back of the hall and ran forward.

I watched it spread.

I watched women look at Cora's face, and then at Gareth's, and then at each other.

They were both fair, and both pale-eyed, and their eyes were the same gray.

Nobody said it aloud.

Gareth saw them, too.

He straightened.

His voice dropped into the heavy register that made old wolves bow their heads.

"This woman rejected her Alpha and her pack. She broke the Goddess's pillar and she has brought outsiders into my hall to do violence to my wolves."

"By the Alpha's right, I name Linnea Farrow a rogue."

"Take her."

Eight guards came off the walls at once.

Some of them hesitated.

Some of them did not.

"Stay where you are," Rowan said.

He had not raised his voice, and he did not need to.

Fifteen Ashmoor wolves in plain gray coats stepped out of the side doors and lined up behind us.

None of them drew a blade.

They just stood there, big and calm, with their hands loose at their sides.

The old Alpha rapped his cane on the floor.

"Eastern wolves at the gate," he said mildly. "I would not test them, Hargrave."

Gareth looked from the door to his guards.

He said, "Take her."

The first guard lunged for my arm.

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