break the tension in the room.
âFaythe did what she had to do to save an innocent tabbyâs life,â Marc insisted, flushed with anger, but obviously trying to keep his temper in check. âShe made a decision only a real leader could have faced, andââ
âBite your tongue before I rip it out of your mouth!âPierce roared, and Marc bristled like a tiger on alert. I moved closer to him, and to my reliefâand surpriseâJace stepped up on his other side, ready to defend his Pridemate if necessary, in spite of their personal rivalry. âI always gave you the benefit of the doubt,â Pierce spat. âI even defended you when they said a stray could never be as good an enforcer as a Prideborn cat. But then you helped her lead my boy to the slaughter! What the hell is wrong with the bunch of you? How could you hand over a member of your own species to be pecked to death by a bunch of giant buzzards?â
I wanted to argue. To defend myself and my actions. But weâd discussed it with my father and had agreed not to comment on what happened to Lance Pierce. Including the fact that Iâd ordered Marc to execute Lance to spare him from being eaten alive by the birds. Malone was sure to declare that a murder, rather than a mercy.
âI guess Calâs right about strays. Youâre genetically inferior. You didnât give a damn about my son because youâre not even the same species. And you!â Pierce turned his dark-eyed fury on me, and I almost took a step back, floored by the depth of his hatred. âYouâre an abomination. Turning your nose up at your real duty and obligation to hand over one of your own in cold blood. I feel sorry for your father, saddled with such a self-righteous whore for a daughter. Refusing to give him any heirs, yet flaunting two lovers in front of the whole world. You truly have no shame.â
I reeled like Iâd been slapped. My cheeks flamed. I could actually see bright red patches of skin at the bottom of my field of vision. And the double standard burned like hellflames. If there was an enforcer in theroom whoâd only been with one woman, then I was Garfield.
âJerald.â Paul Blackwell didnât even raise his voice, but every head in the room turned toward him, and Pierce went silent instantly. The senior Alpha and acting council chair stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning on a worn cane, looking every bit of his seventy-something years. âYouâll have a chance to air your grievances, but this is not it.â
Pierce nodded angrily, but refused to back down, so I had to step around him to accept the key ring Blackwell held out to me. âTell your father we vote at seven sharp. If he has any preliminary business, heâll need to present it before that.â
The slight arch in Blackwellâs brow was so subtle surely no one else noticed it. But I knew what that meant. If we were going to play the ace up our collective sleeve, weâd have to do it soon.
I nodded, clenching the key ring, then turned and marched out the front door with Marc and Jace on my heels.
âIf this doesnât work, we are so fucked,â Jace whispered, as we walked across the grass in a straight line. âTheyâd string us all up now, if they could. Thereâs no way any of those three are gonna switch sides.â
âItâll work,â Marc insisted, for once forgetting to growl at his rival. âIt has to.â
I could only nod, still stunned by Pierceâs speech. My hand strayed to the left side of my coat, beneath which I could barely feel a long, straight ridge. Two thunderbird feathers, stained with Lance Pierceâs blood. Evidence that Lance had killed the young bird, and that Malone had tried to frame us for the crime, simultaneouslyweakening our defenses and diverting the aftermath from his own Pride.
Those feathers were the key to our preemptive strike. We hadnât come
Lightnin' Hopkins: His Life, Blues