Moon Claimed (Werewolf Dens #2) - Kelly St. Clare Page 0,99

she never would’ve left me alone.

I cracked open my eyes.

We were still in Sandstone, moving across the ground level of the quarry. Where were the stewards? The cannon had boomed. The first one, I assumed, for no reason other than Billy and Valerie were with me. Stewards should be on the tier just above my tray by now. Others should also be rock-climbing into position.

Whatever this Stabattse was, it wasn’t good.

How are you feeling?

Her voice was still weak. Can’t stay awake.

Lifting my bound hands to my mouth, I tugged at the rope knotted around my wrists.

Whoever tied this was good. Without access to my fangs, I wasn’t getting anywhere.

The sounds of a crowd reached my feeble ears. The temptation to roll and look over the edge was real, but I couldn’t risk alerting anyone to my conscious state.

My heart pounded as I strained to listen.

A large crowd.

There was a definite edge to their murmurs and whispers. Suspense? They didn’t know what was happening, perhaps.

I’d wager a guess every fighting steward was in attendance by the volume.

Someone tapped a microphone, and the volume of the crowd surged before dropping away.

“We, the Ni Tiaki tribe, ancient guardians of this land, call a Stabattse. Luthers, come forward as witness to our words,” Rhona said.

I stilled. Oh, fuck.

Was this like a cease-fire thing?

Her voice was serene, not defensive or angry, and that couldn’t mean anything good. What was she going to do to them? It had to involve me. Or did she just want me out of the way?

Sascha would be down there too. If he’d replied to Rhona, then my human ears were too weak to pick it up.

He’ll feel where we are, my wolf said.

He would have known something was wrong when I didn’t show for the meeting at 4:00 p.m.

My eyes widened.

Wade!

I renewed my efforts on the ropes.

“Stewards.” Rhona’s magnified voice boomed through Sandstone, though I couldn’t tell exactly where she was. “I have a confession to make. I am not Andie as I’ve led you to believe.”

Shocked outcries rang out.

“I apologise for the subterfuge, but as you’ll soon hear, the leader, who I have the misfortune to call sister, is unworthy of her position.”

Giving up on the rope, I listened over my erratic breaths.

“Some of you have found my recent behaviour selfish and dangerous. Many of you blame me for the loss of Clay. You see my actions as intended to divide and split the tribe. But you’ll see that my actions were in response to learning something horrific, something heart-breaking, not long ago.”

The stewards were quiet. It was the attentive silence I’d experienced once before. The type where people were deathly curious.

She’d tell them, and then what? I had to assume they’d drag me out for show and tell, otherwise what was the point in bringing me at all?

“In this grid, mere months ago, I ran through the forest to find Andie crouched over my father. His neck had been broken by the Luther standing right there. At that time, Andie worked in The Dens on our orders—or so we thought. She’d conveyed her worry about a new tension from the Luthers at work. I was concerned but accepted her word when she told me it was being handled.”

I closed my eyes, heart sinking.

We’ll get through this, my wolf whispered.

Rhona continued. “My father was dead, and I sat beside Andie in his office before the will reading, wondering how I’d ever fill his shoes. Andie sat beside me and convinced me I was ready.”

I had. Lying all the while.

Clearly, she thought back on that moment as much as me.

“You saw my shock at the will reading. I’d been lied to my entire life by my father. By my mother too. At the same moment, the role I believe myself born for was swept away. I was afloat with no idea where to go next. But there was an upside. I had a sister. If anyone could do the job, it was her.”

A lump rose in my throat.

“You saw her that day too,” Rhona said. “The way she stood by my side. The way she accepted these huge changes without tears or fear. You saw how she effortlessly slid into the role of head steward—after mere weeks playing the game. Like me, I’m sure you marvelled and rejoiced that, even if we’d lost an unforgettable leader, somehow, somehow, we’d found another.”

My nose twitched. The muted scents of those below ticked my awakening senses. The scents grew stronger, and soon I