Page 75 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

“Report,” Grandma said.

“Red Alia was in the forest with a man who was clearly a werewolf. He did not kill her. She spoke with him. She admitted she has magic.”

A gasp rose from the crowd. Everything was so silent I heard a mouse skitter up the walls.

Then the yells began.

“Outrageous!”

“Black-mouthed jis!”

“Whip and hang the family!”

The last one caught on until nearly everyone in that room, people I’d known my entire life, chanted for my death and the death of my family. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the verdict.

“She has betrayed us,” Grandma said, her voice soft but unyielding. “But I am nothing if not fair. She will have a trial, and then her and her family will be hanged should they be found guilty.”

A ripping came from behind me. I turned to find my Red hood being passed from hand to hand, each ripping the hood straight down the center one inch at a time. Bile rose in my throat.

When it got to Grandma, she took it and with one last glance at the people, tore it in two and let the tatters fall to the ground.

I stared at the limp red fabric laying discarded like refuse on the ground. It felt as if my life had ripped down the center with that hood.

As Grandma opened her mouth to say more, a shadow detached from the ceiling. The shadow pooled at the ground right behind Grandma, then rose as a man. My heart caught in my throat when those burning eyes met mine.

Shen

Trussed like cattle to slaughter.

Snapping down the emotions rolling in my chest was harder than ever. Her eyes were glimmering with tears. A single starlit orb fell from the corner of her eye, tracing the gentle curve of her cheek and dropping from her clenched jaw. Part of her face was discolored, and red dripped a scarlet path from a split in her lip as her very people spat on her.

Lycus howled with displeasure.Kill. Killall,he demanded.

I swallowed back the urge to shift and rend them limb from limb. Tingles erupted on my arms, the precursor to fur. I managed to keep Lycus in line. Barely.

I let my cold dagger rest at the corner of the matriarch’s neck. She did not flinch.

“You’re dead,” she said, her voice soft.

I shook my head. So this was where Little Red got her strength. “If I am dead, then why do I draw breath?”

Alia’s eyes were about to fall from their sockets. They pleaded with me, but I ignored the silent communication. “I propose a trade,” I said, just loud enough for the people ringing Alia and her bond, watching her humiliation even though she had always been one of them. But this… this had gone too far.

The matriarch cocked her head at that. I wondered if she had studied how to kill werewolves so long she now subconsciously mimicked them. “I am listening,” the matriarch said.

“The girl, her bond, and her family—let them go. No one to follow. No one to know. As if they were dead, yet they live. Just far from here.”

“And what should we expect in return?” the matriarch asked. “It must be something worthy, for while you are a snit with many talents, these have betrayed their own.”

Alia flinched, as if those words struck her. I closed my eyes for a scant second, pushing Lycus back. But his teeth became my teeth and erupted out from between my lips. “My life for theirs,” I said, my voice a low growl since my vocal chords were partially changed to wolf.

I watched Alia carefully. She always gave her feelings away by minute reactions. A twitch of her thumb, a crinkle of her nose, a cock of her brow, a smirk on her lips. But even I was not prepared for the loud gasp that broke through her parted lips. “No!” she hissed, struggling against the ropes.

The matriarch tsked. “Young, foolish love. I shall enjoy taking the burning of my lifelong achievements out on your hide, Wolf.”

My shoulders hunched just a hair. She would take the exchange.

“No. No, you can’t. This is all so wrong,” Alia said, her voice cracking. A tear trailed her cheek. She took a deep breath. With her eyes closed, she rose from where she was half-huddled on the ground.

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