Page 114 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

I cast a binding spell, and Doyle goes silent.

I turn to Bishop. “I’ve bound him so Harry can speak. Let me know when I should release him.”

That explanation is for everyone else, while also possibly making it clear whose orders I follow, for those who need that. Is that uncomfortable? Yes, but I will do what is needed. This isn’t the time to assert my independence.

Bishop also knows I can’t hold Doyle for long, so he tells Harry to continue.

“We came up with that story he told,” Harry says. “I wasn’t with the others, so it could make sense that I overheard something. I didn’t. I don’t know what happened in that room.”

“It wouldn’t be what Mr. Doyle said.” The voice is quiet but firm, and everyone turns as Felix walks forward, a little unsteady. “I’m Claude’s son. I know Bishop, and I know he’d never have killed my father. Bishop grieves, as I do. The witch—” He swallows. “Miss Cordelia’s grandmother killed my father. I believe that.”

“She did say she’d let the Pack live if all three of us died,” Julius says. “Claude tried to negotiate. She killed him, and we ran to warn the others, but the cabal was already there, already fighting the Albion Pack. We all want to believe Beryl Levine would have stayed her hand if we did this or that. If Cordelia went with her. If we let her kill us. But that wasn’t going to happen and yes, Bishop did offer, damn him. He offered his life.”

“I—I don’t understand,” one of the Cambrian wolves says. “Why would Doyle pay the boy to lie?”

“Do you really need to ask?” Everyone follows the voice to Jesse. “He wants to take over the Albion Pack. That was his plan all along.”

“And you knew?” the Cambrian says.

“No, I thought he might actually help the Albions in return for the mill.” A humorless smile. “I underestimated his greed, but I still warned Bishop to be careful.”

Bishop motions for me to snap the binding spell, which is good, because I couldn’t have held it much longer. Doyle staggers and catches his balance and says, “Lies. They wanted me silent while they lied.”

“If we wanted that,” Jesse says, “we’d have killed you so you couldn’t say another word.”

“You traitorous—”

“Me?” Jesse’s voice rises. He turns to face the wolves. “You Cambrians know I came here with Franklin. You know he left the American Pack. You may have heard he failed an Alpha challenge. The part he failed wasn’t the fight—he couldn’t win enough support, and then he attacked the Alpha anyway and fled before he could be killed for his treason. I fled with him because he was my friend. My best friend, raised together as brothers. He begged me to follow him to Britain and start a new life, and once we were settled, I could bring my sons and their mother. When he wanted to restart the Cambrian Pack, I went along with it. He promised we’d build a new Pack, where my family would be welcome.”

“Don’t listen—” Doyle begins.

Jesse wheels on him. “Shut your mouth or I’ll ask the witch to shut it again.” He turns back to the others. “He wanted me to recruit young wolves, because he said we needed to make money fast, by whatever means necessary, so we could afford to offer them food and lodgings. I asked you to steal, to bully, to blackmail. I believed that it was a temporary measure, and I wanted to see my family. Then I learned what he was asking you to do behind my back. Murder. Worse, I realized our coffers weren’t filling at nearly the rate they should be. He told me to leave the dirty parts to him, and soon we’d have enough money. Enough money for us. Only us. When I balked, he threatened my sons.”

“I would never—” Doyle begins.

Jesse wheels on him again. “I told you our wolves were not hired killers. I asked what happened to the ones who questioned us and disappeared. I insisted it wasn’t right to keep so much money for ourselves while our wolves lived in squalor. And how would you respond?” He walks up to Doyle. “You would ask how my sons were faring. How their mother was. And if I didn’t understand that message, you’d remind me how quickly you could get a telegram to America, remind me that you still knew wolves there who’d do whatever you asked.”

Doyle’s jaw sets. “I never actually threatened—”

Jesse lunges, and Bishop has to shoulder him back. When Jesse glares at the interference, Bishop murmurs something.

Jesse still glowers, but he rolls his shoulders and steps away before addressing the crowd. “He meant it as a threat against my sons and their mother. There is no other way to interpret his words. So I bided my time, figuring out how to get them to safety before I acted. Then Bishop came along.”

“And you colluded with him to steal my Pack,” Doyle says.

“Raymond?” Jesse calls. “Would you please step forward?”

No one moves. Then the Cambrian wolves shift, exposing a man I noticed yesterday as the oldest of them, his dark hair graying at the temples. He moves forward with obvious reluctance.

“You tended to Hanora,” Jesse says. “As the Pack’s medic.”

“Yes, sir.”

“She had been beaten the night before last. Severely beaten.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can you tell me who did it? The scent left on her clothing?”