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There was a tiny glimmer of hope. “EarthSpine.”
“They didn’t even want to go save their own Chronicler from SilverPaw,” Sterling said skeptically.
“Exactly. They’re completely competent warriors, and you need experience sparring with wolves, not humans. EarthSpine hates SilverPaw, they don’t get regular invitations to the Greater Meetings, and if they get to participate and claim some credit in one of the biggest prestige shakeups in a decade? The potential downside is minor compared to the vast potential upside, and they actually get to profit off their debt. I can go live in the house in Seattle to be close by.”
He clasped my ankle, the chapped skin scraping gently along mine. It was a plan. And it was even a decent plan. “Will they agree to it?”
“He knew the deal he struck with me.” I permitted myself a tiny little sip of hope from the bottle I kept under the proverbial pillow.
He kissed me gently, then lingered, tasting me, and I felt his smile. “Call them in the morning. Tell them they are going to get to repay their debt in a way history will remember.”
Freezer Case
Sterling was gone by the time I woke up, leaving me to call EarthSpine myself.
I had a cup of coffee first. Cerys had excellent taste in coffee. Burian and Cye had been put to work wiring up another ceiling fan, Garrett was out with his horses, Sterling had disappeared somewhere, and Jun was in the yard bouncing around in wolf form, kicking up piles of snow.
I stood on the small balcony off the bedroom and watched him while I called EarthSpine.
“Luna,” the Alpha’s low-toned voice rumbled.
“I am going to call in the favor you owe my pack sooner than expected,” I informed him.
“And what would you ask of us?”
“Sterling has challenged Alpha Alan of FrostFur to a war-form duel this summer.” Saying it felt like getting bitten up and spit out. I shoved my guilt and anguish aside. There was no time for it, and I couldn’t show weakness. This was what had to be done.
Quiet. Then, “And how did that happen?”
“Does it matter? He needs warriors to train with. I have neither the warm bodies nor the facilities in the city for such an endeavor. He is experienced in war-form, but needs more to take on an Alaskan feral like Alan.” If this Alpha tried to welch on his agreement, I would set fire to his territory. “By the way, my brother is dead.”
More quiet. “And how did that happen?”
“Sterling killed him.”
“It would seem your mate has decided to cause destruction wherever he goes.”
“Would you like to be next?”
A chuckle. “No. I am intrigued by this city wolf. My scouts were unwillingly impressed by him. Is it true he has a silver wound?”
“It is. He fears not even silver at this point.”
“And now he has killed an Elder Alpha, and will duel another powerful Alpha.” He chuckled again. “How did Jerron die?”
“Silver from a claw-gauntlet. It was an execution, really.”
“This wolf has a silver-tipped gauntlet?”
“Yes.” And I didn’t believe the family heirloom story. Conversation for a later time, though. He didn’t need the distraction. Granted, it was possible Garrett had commissioned the FrostFangare to make the gauntlet, as it was traditional for a warrior who had been wounded by silver in battle to be given such a gauntlet. The FrostFangare certainly had the artisans and experience, and it wouldn’t have been inappropriate for Sterling to have it.
But I could do basic math. Sterling’s biological father had to be a FrostFangare, and he wasn’t nearly as absent from Sterling’s life as his parents let everyone believe. I doubted very much that they’d flown a dying Sterling to Iceland and stabbed around in the dark for a doctor. Maybe they’d had to kick up a fuss and make demands, but it hadn’t been the manufactured lucky break it had originally sounded like. And the doctors kept tabs on him years later to monitor his recovery? Bullshit. And those “summer wolves” from Europe? FrostFangare and other adjacent packs who had been told to pass through New York and be nice to the lone wolf kid.
Sure, all those things had sounded plausible and reasonable when I’d first heard them. A little unusual, perhaps, but the circumstances had been unusual. Mix in one custom-made claw-gauntlet and a confession from Cerys she believed the wolf had been her mate, yet she’d never forgive him?
Sounded to me like Sterling’s biological father had tried to get Cerys back at some point, and the FrostFangare suffered a touch of Pack Guilt.
But not enough to come forward and undo the damage that had been done twenty years ago.
