Page 76 of Empowering the Wolf's Heart

“No more, Grandma,” she said, her eyes now flashing with the determination of a she-wolf.

My wolf howled with pride, watching her rise from the ashes of the humiliation and rejection of the very people she loved and had bled for.

“I challenge you for rite,” she said, her spine ramrod straight, her voice hard as cold granite, and her eyes twin stars shining in a midnight sky.

My aedus star. My pathway home. My carissimus.

I knew it then. I understood. The bond was why I was drawn to her, but she was the reason I had grown to love her. Her spirit and her grit. Her kindness and her gentleness. She had fought so hard, came so far.

“No, Red. This is a battle you will not win,” I said, hoping against hope she would listen to reason.

But her eyes flashed and her lips pursed in a thin line. She reminded me of a kitten hissing. Cute, but with sharp claws.

“No, you listen, Wolfie. This is my tribe, my people. And I will end this,” she whispered, her voice so low I was the only one in the tent who heard it. My smirk should never have come. I knew it would only encourage her madness.

But I also knewher.

Regardless of what I said, she was more stubborn than any werewolf.

CHAPTER 26

The Rite

ALIA & SHEN

Alia

It was him all along. And looking into his eyes, I knew he knew that I now knew.

I wouldn’t lose him. I couldn’t, regardless of what he was. He had freedom to fight for and too much to live for.

A surge of anger coursed through me. The thought of him even contemplating trading his life for mine… I wouldn’t allow him to commit such a sacrificial act socheaply.No. He’d better freakin’liveto explain everything.

For the first time, I planned to use my Gift as a weapon. Let’s see the Reds face the monster they’ve created.

The Rite was never madeto be invoked. It was a form of war, an outright battle cry to harm the few for the good of the many. It was only in place for a fully-fledged and honored Red hunter who had been stripped of their title. A very specific set of circumstance had to be met, and it had only been invoked oncein the five hundred years since Reds had gone to war with magic. The invoker died by his father’s hands.

I wouldn’t follow in my ancestor’s footsteps. Yes, the man who died was my great-great-great-great-grandpa, who’d invoked the Rite when his father proved himself to be unstable after a werewolf killed his wife. But the Rite favors the bold, and insanity is nothing if not bold.

There was a terrifying light in my grandma’s eye. The blue of her gaze was fading with age, but her gaze was still sharp. And just as angry.

Ever since Grandpa died, she’d never been the same. I hadn’t seen the change until recently. The way she pitted the Reds against me, all to make certain I never received the sword of rule. It was clear now that she never meant me to be the one to succeed her. All the blood I’d spilt and all the lives I’d taken at her bidding were all a farce to keep me compliant.

I was never meant to kill Hood. I was meant to fail so that the way would be paved for her chosen: Graham. Or some other. Who knows what was in her mind.

The Rite was simple. It was a test of courage. Of wisdom. Of wit. And it was set in place in a way none could be disadvantaged. For it was not a fight. It was a war. A war of the mind.

The loser was at the mercy of the winner. And Grandma had no mercy.

We were set at each end of the Red’s training grounds, just on the edge of the woods. This place was a massive sand pit with plenty of weapons and seating along the perimeter. Ran and Shen were bound at my back. My family was behind Grandma—except for Jacob, who was given leave to fetch Anna with enforcers as guards.

Rey had the kids, and he was watching with a disapproving scowl marring his face.

The three elders were between Grandma and me. Elders Pulma, Timone, and Vera.

“You will each be given a full turn to find the hidden meaning with a simple riddle. You may not harm each other. You may not harm the other’s hostages. You may slow the other down. Your riddle is thus.” Elder Pulma opened the scroll sealed since the time of my great-great-grandpa. “Light by night, dark by day. One hand to hold, one to release. I come for everyone, but not everyone accepts me as the boon I may be. What am I?”

The scroll comes up with its own riddle when it’s opened. I’ve always wondered how it worked, but now I wondered if a mage had spelled it. And if so, what did that say of our ancestors?

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