Chapter 39: The Gate

Ewan's POV

I lost my twelfth bout in eight days before the sun came over the east wall.

The shaved-headed wolf stood over me in the training ring with his ears flat, breathing hard.

He had not wanted to hit me that last time. I had seen it in his shoulders.

"Again," I said, from the dirt.

"No."

I looked up.

He had changed back to a man while I wasn't watching.

He stood with his arms folded across his bare chest.

"I'm not saying no because you're hurt," he said. "I'm saying no because you're doing it wrong."

"I'm fighting a wolf who weighs twice what he looks."

"You're fighting to win."

"That's what a fight is."

"Not that one." He crouched down beside me.

"You can't win it, Alpha. You know that, and I know it."

"Half the Keep knows it. Forty of them are on the road to Greywater."

It was the first time anyone had said it to my face.

I didn't answer.

"So stop trying," he said. "Try to be standing at the end."

"That's all. Stay on four feet. Don't yield, and don't go down."

"For how long?"

"Until somebody ends it."

I thought of Daphne's grey lips and Isla's flat hand on a window.

I thought of a plan that said, survive until they cut.

"That's not a strategy," I said.

"It's the only one you can actually do," said the shaved-headed wolf.

He shifted back and stood over me again, and this time I didn't try to hit him.

I took his weight on my shoulders and rolled with it.

I kept my paws under me and let the blows go through.

When he had me against the rail, I did not go down.

We went on for forty minutes.

At the end of it, I was still on four feet.

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