Page 62 of The Ashpaw: Part One

“Liar!” he bellowed, raising and slamming a hand on the table. “A liar and a thief!”

He rounded the table, grabbing her roughly by the neckline of her dress and pulling her up to her tiptoes as he lowered his face into hers, fire, anger, and disgust in his dark blue eyes. “Do you know the punishment for stealing, Ashpaw?”

She shook her head, sobbing softly.

He grabbed her right wrist and pulled it onto the table.

“Contemptible she-wolf,” he spat. “You have maligned our customs, broken our laws, and embarrassed me for the last time. Dominic, your sword.”

The sound of metal sliding out of leather had Fern struggling uselessly against his impossibly strong grip. “Please,” she cried, snot and tears mixing as she wept. “I’ll be good, I promise!”

The guard handed the weapon to Darion, who examined it first, checking the weight before raising it in the air.

“By clan law, theft is punished by severance of the dominant hand.”

There was nothing she could to convince him otherwise, her insistence of her innocence only further proof of her guilt in his eyes. All she could do was resign herself to her fate, and hope maybe she’d bleed out and die, putting an end to this misery once and for all.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, bracing herself for the impact and the pain while stretching her fingers one last time.

“Move, I need to speak with my brother.”

The sword froze in the air.

“He’s in the middle of an important—”

“Whatever he’s doing isn’t nearly as important as the news I need to share. Now move!” the voice commanded.

The door whipped open. “Brother, I—”

Fern did not see him, her stare focused on the hand she’d never see again.

But she recognized the voice.

“What in Solas’s Hells is going on here?”

Kyntha sighed prettily. “The Ashpaw has been caught stealing my jewelry. My attendant witnessed the theft herself.”

There was a pause. “Why aren’t all the alphas here?”

Darion’s grip on her wrist tightened.

“The Ashpaw is my responsibility, so her punishment is mine to decide and enact as I see fit.”

Eidan’s body shifted behind her. “Permanent maiming requires the entire Council’s approval. You know this.”

Darion’s grip then loosened a fraction, and he grunted as though he’d forgotten.

Finally, Fern dared to look at Eidan, and she attempted to catch her breath.

He smelled of the wind and horse, as though he had been riding for days, his hair slightly unkempt, his beard longer than when he’d left.

Fern desperately wanted him to look at her, but his focus was on Mauricia.

“You’re the witness?”

Mauricia averted her gaze and bowed her neck. “Aye, Alpha.”

“Meet my eye and tell me what happened.”