Chapter 8: The Alpha in the Snow

Alastair dismounted in front of the pass hut with twenty wolves at his back and the drivers watching from the lean-to.

I walked out to meet him with Caleb a step behind me.

Alastair's gaze went to Caleb's coat.

It was buttoned one hole off.

Then it went to my mouth.

I kept my face still.

"You rode out of the residence without a word to the Beta," Alastair said.

"The wagons were burned. I came to count them."

"I told you to stay where I could protect you."

"You told me a lot of things. This one I didn't hear."

I took the grey scrap from my glove and held it out.

"Stonecrown quartermaster's cloth, single thread, stitched on the outside. Dyed to look like Tarn Valley."

He took it.

His thumb moved over the seam, and the color left his face.

"That's our issue," he said. "That's from my own stores."

"Did you order it?"

"No." He said it at once, and his eyes were on the cloth. "I wouldn't burn Larchmoor's grain. I need it."

"Then somebody at headquarters did."

"I'll find out who."

"Find out quickly," Caleb said. "Whoever it was wanted my men blamed."

Alastair didn't look at him.

"Rosalind," he said. "Come home with me. Today. We'll have this put right and you can sleep in your own bed."

"In whose bed will you be sleeping?"

A driver in the lean-to choked.

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