Page 119 of The Werewolf’s Wrong Mate

“I gathered that from the lack of basic sanity.”

Sava said, “She cannot run.”

“No,” I said.

Evelyn’s voice cut in smoothly. “Then perhaps the claim is already answered.”

Cassie looked past me to Evelyn. “You mean if I’m too injured to perform your ritual obstacle course, I should die.”

“I mean a true mate bond should withstand proof.”

Ronan sat slowly. “The hunt cannot be called on an injured human.”

Malrec said, “The old law does not distinguish human from wolf.”

“The old law didn’t imagine a human mate.”

“Then the mark cannot be true.”

The room erupted. Not shouting. Wolves rarely needed volume to threaten. Chairs shifted. Hands flexed. One councilwoman whispered to the male beside her. Evelyn stayed still, letting the room do the work her words had begun.

She had not come to kill Cassie with a blade, she had come to make the pack ask for it.

Cassie’s fear moved through the bond again. Then her anger rose over it.

Strong.

Hot.

Hers.

I looked back at her. She was pale, yes. Hurt, yes. But her chin had lifted, and her eyes had gone sharp in the way that made everyone who underestimated her look briefly stupid before they knew why.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

The room stopped.

My body went colder than death. “No.”

Cassie looked at me. “You don’t get to no me.”

“You are injured.”

“I am also apparently on a timetable.”

“No.”

Her eyes hardened and the bond snapped hot between us, anger meeting fear so sharply I almost stepped back.

Almost.

“Ian,” Ronan said.

I ignored him.

Cassie’s voice dropped. “If I don’t agree, they keep calling me fake. They keep calling this false. They keep calling my death mercy. If this hunt is the only proof they respect, then I need to know what we are dealing with.”

“You cannot run.”