ck. Four days until the marking ceremony, and my arm still wore the faint sca

pack's strength. I knew better. It

ugh against my skin. Roasted venison and pine sm

night, he'd left me with riddles-Be careful what you wish f

ir growls weaving a net of noise. Eyes snagged on

" some b

l," oth

ut my hands shook

d at the head table, golden hair a halo, her arm coiled around

eets-gone in a breath. My chest br

om stone. His glacial eyes caught mine-a raw flash flickered, then slid a

d loudly enough for me to hear. "Wonder if she'l

o the shadows. I followed his gaze and froze. The servant's table-splinte

y throat. "This

Aileen's touch. Said i

at Derek. He faced the Elders, back rigid, fingers

ed my spine, their snickers a blade. "Healer at the sc

stle, vision blurri

p in hand. "Oh, Lia," she cooed, honey laced with venom

ped the table, nails biting wood. "Better t

re I belong." She leaned in, her floral scent choking m

ns. My cheeks blazed, but I held her gaz

splashed my cloak, red as blood. "Oops," she gasped,

t fabric clung, cold and heavy. "

acked Aileen!" "Half-blood trash!" My hea

oug

ld and unyielding. His eyes flicked to her-her smile faltered, then stea

e said, each

then tears welled, artful and false. "Me?" sh

faced the pack, glare lethal. "W

prickling. Mate? The word mocked me-his shield, not

d back, low and dea

mph curdling. But then I heard it-Morna's whisper, soft and sha

lence a knife in my gut. Ve

n't breathe. His defense was a lie-property, not protection. His sc

, but for her

cloak hung heavy, a scarlet brand. I leaned against the lodge,

e being t

g. Pine and steel hit me-he'd seen me go. He stopped, to

that," I said, voice

frayed, rough. "They'

You let them parade me, bleed me, mock m

raw. "It's no

ng. "Your marking ceremony-four day

hroat working. "I

ed, sharp and final. He flinche

perate. His grip softened, thumb brushing my pulse, warm

, voice low, "

didn't want. I yanked free, the heat searing

I can-" His hand trembled, reaching, the

choking, and tur

l. Pawn. Every name they'd burned into me cut deeper. Morna'

ght, but it was ho

ike spilled blood. I curled into the straw, cold seeping

ir thing. Not Jas

red to the shadows. A howl answered-Derek's, sharp with

cover the truth. To de