Page 116 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

A few strained laughs.

“But Bishop is no tyrant,” Oliver says. “Even those who didn’t initially support him acknowledge that.”

Oliver looks straight at Harry, who grunts and says, “He’s probably too soft. Trying to make sure everything’s fair. I’d prefer a tougher leader.”

“Well, some of us like tyrants, apparently,” Oliver says to quiet chuckles, and Harry looks confused. “But a soft leader doesn’t challenge and conquer a powerful Alpha. A soft leader wouldn’t be challenging a second Alpha today. Personally, I’d rather you all just make your choice and leave the fighting out of it but sadly, that is not how werewolf Packs operate.” A pause. “Perhaps someday.”

Oliver is right, of course. Ideally, the wolves would elect an Alpha. Yet even while I may not have grown up as a werewolf, I understand why it must be done this way. A werewolf Alpha needs to prove his strength and cunning, prove that he has more of both than the current Alpha.

More Cambrian hands rise, enough that only a few stay down, and those seem uncertain of their choice, as if this has all happened too fast and confused them.

“It’s done,” Oliver says. “Of the twenty-four wolves present—excluding Bishop and Mr. Doyle—twenty have cast their support behind Bishop, if he wins the challenge fight.” He glances over to where Tabitha adamantly waves her hand to get his attention. His face softens in a smile. “Twenty wolves and one adopted Pack daughter.”

At that, her face glows, and I squeeze her shoulder.

“Your challenge failed,” Bishop says to Doyle. “Mine passed. I will, however, give you the opportunity to concede without a challenge fight. If you do, you will be escorted to a ship bound for America—”

Doyle’s hand flies up, and then there’s a pistol. Pointed right at Bishop.

FORTY

The moment I register that gun, I cast a binding spell. But before the words are out of my mouth, Rufus is leaping to knock Bishop out of the way. Tabitha casts a knockback on Doyle. Her hand flies up, the simple sorcerer spell launching faster than my binding. Doyle stumbles back. The gun jerks in his hand. And it fires.

My spell finishes at that very moment, but it can’t stop the bullet. A bullet that goes wild, hitting someone else flying to Bishop’s aid.

At first, I can’t tell who it struck. I only see a body go flying with the impact. Then Tabitha screams, that inhuman shriek of hers, and in that scream I know who the bullet hit.

Felix falls to the ground. Tabitha is running toward him, but she checks herself as Julius gets there first. I’m stuck where I am, holding Doyle in a binding spell until Rufus snatches the gun from his hand. Once Rufus has the weapon, Bishop lunges at Doyle, but Doyle backs away, hands raised.

“All right,” Doyle says. “All right. I yield.”

“You lost your chance for that,” Bishop snarls. “You will face me in single combat—”

Doyle bolts, shoving aside a wolf in his path. Rufus starts to go after him, but Bishop grabs his enforcer’s coat and says, “No.”

“You can’t let him run,” Rufus says, too low for most to hear.

“I know,” Bishop says grimly. “Julius? How’s Felix?”

“Working on it,” Julius says between his teeth as I drop beside him to help.

Felix has been shot in the upper chest, above his heart. I don’t know enough about anatomy to understand the severity of that, but Julius’s face tells me it’s bad.

“Keep him from going into shock, please,” Julius says as he works.

Above us, Bishop is addressing the crowd.

“I do not want to do this,” Bishop says. “Pulling a gun was a coward’s choice. Running is a coward’s choice. I want to say that chasing Franklin Doyle is beneath me. But he shot a Pack wolf and cannot be allowed to get away. I will give chase, but before that, I need to be absolutely clear on something.”

He inhales deeply and then says, “The Caledonian Alpha demanded that I kill Doyle. That I bring his head to the Caledonian castle. I agreed so that I could leave without Hamish’s scrutiny, but my inner circle will tell you that I did not want to kill Doyle. My hope was to work with the Cambrians instead. I realize that what I am about to do could make it seem as if I had this planned all along.”

His gaze sweeps the crowd. “I had no plans to kill Doyle unless he posed a threat, which he now does. I do this for my Pack and for the Cambrian Pack. I do not do it for Hamish. But I will do it. Myself. I will not ask others to do my dirty work.”

“Less talking, more chasing,” Rufus mutters.

Bishop slaps him on the back. “I just wanted to be sure everyone understood the situation.”

His eyes meet mine. In that look, I can see exactly how much he hates to do this. It’s ignominious, chasing a fleeing man. But he’s right that he can’t let Doyle get away, and he’s right that he shouldn’t ask Rufus to do this for him.