Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114617 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Groaning, I rolled my neck—feeling the thin trickle of blood running down it. Whoever clocked me got me good. Points for the quick-thinking. I never saw them coming.
Pantsuit was still running her mouth but I ignored her while I took stock.
I was tied to a chair, that much was clear from the thick bands around my wrists, cutting off circulation to my fingers.
We looked to be in a small meeting room. Big enough for the no less than seven figures surrounding me, but not so big for me to shift.
Not that I need to, I thought, eyeing the guarded door. I’ll be walking out of here soon enough.
“Thank you,” I broke in, cutting off her crowing. “Kind of you all.”
“You—! Excuse me?” the woman said, arching her brow. “It’s kind of us to gather every clan and every wolf so that they can share in the joy of watching your head torn from your body?”
“No,” I drew out. “It was kind of you not to grope me while I took my forced nap. Supposed enemies or not, there’s really no excuse for that kind of behavior toward women.” I inclined my head to her furrowed-brow confusion. “Your basic decency toward me is acknowledged and appreciated.”
“Decency?” she cried, sharing a look with the other men and women in the room.
“That’s right. And it’s because you granted me the basic respect of not pawing me while I was unconscious that I’m going to say this with much less gloating than I planned.” I flashed her a beaming smile. “There’s not going to be an execution because of what you didn’t see when you weren’t looking.
“I still bear the mark of Luame,” I dropped.
The smirk wiped clean off her face. “You’re lying.”
“Nope. I am the mother wolf, and if you kill me, you’ll end the wolf race with one slice of your claw.” I grinned wide, laughing in her face. Okay, I was gloating a little. “Forever.”
“Lies!” one of the men shouted. He pounced on me, ripping my shirt up.
Clear for all to see was the crescent moon birthmark where a belly button was supposed to be, but never was.
“This isn’t possible! It’s a trick. It’s makeup!” He vigorously rubbed my stomach, making me burst into giggles.
“Stop that!” Pantsuit pulled him off. “No wolf mistakes the mark of Luame for makeup.” The weight of her glare bore down on me. “It’s real.”
Whispers broke out. Whispers I heard clear as a church bell. They were actually debating if they should call the execution off, and if there was a way to kill me without ending the wolf line for good.
They whispered, but Pantsuit didn’t. We locked in a long, measuring stare.
I could sense it. Everyone else was decoration. The true power in this room... was her.
And me.
“Very well,” she gritted. “We cannot kill you, but the dark, dank, dirty hole you’ll live in for the rest of your life will make you wish you were dead. You will pay for Castor’s murder and the betrayal of our people, traitor. That I promise you.”
I hummed. “Mmm, nope. Wrong again.”
She laughed. “Is that so?”
“It is so, and it’s not me saying that. It’s my friend on the outside who will release a video to the world that shows me shifting.” I trapped her widening gaze. “Unless she hears from me morning and night, confirming that I’m safe, free, and happy. She’ll drop the existence of werewolves on the planet.”
I shrugged. “Not big news for the vampires, demigods, or fae, but the mundanes are in for a surprise. And you know what mundanes do to people they don’t understand.”
“You’re lying,” she rasped. “You’d never do such a thing. You’d be putting all of Wolf Nation at risk. The hunts, the slaughter, the capture and experimentation. We’d be persecuted until the end of everything. You wouldn’t do that to your own people.”
My grin was wicked. “Just like I wouldn’t rip my fate’s throat out in front of my own people?”
It was chaos. People shouting, threatening, and partially shifting—their wolves begging to be free to slaughter me. But amidst it all, Pantsuit and I locked eyes.
“What do you want?” A short, sharp question, but it silenced all the whispers.
I smiled. “See? I knew you were the smart one. Please.” I phased through the ropes, letting them drop harmlessly to the ground. “Sit.”
Growls, snaps, and the man who tickled me jumped to attack. Pantsuit stopped it all with a raised palm. “Calm yourself, Kellan. She’s not just a moon wolf, she’s the moon wolf. Those ropes were never more than an accessory.” Pulling out the chair at the end of the table, she sat—maintaining a healthy distance between us. “I repeat,” she said. “What do you want?”
“I would’ve thought that was obvious. I will attend Corvin Academy.” I didn’t make it a request or a question because it wasn’t one. I was Corvin Academy’s newest student whether anyone had a problem with it or not. “Oh, and, just in case this wasn’t clear, I will do so as a free wolf of the Nation with all the rights afforded me.