Page 24

Ruby looked at me. I lifted one shoulder. She went.

Hestia looked her up and down with eyes like wet stones. “What you’re doing here is brave.”

Ruby blinked at her in surprise, then the corners of her mouth twitched. “Or foolish?”

Hestia smiled. “We’re all fools, aren’t we?”

Fern came over. She was seventeen, the second-fastest runner in the pack after Gage, and full of questions.

“Is it true you can put a knife in a target from a distance?”

Ruby turned to her. “Who told you that?”

“Nobody. I guessed.” Fern grinned. “Can you?”

Ruby considered it. “Yes.”

“Wow,” Fern muttered under her breath.

Bram shook his head, but he slid his stone weights over to her corner of the map without being asked. It wasn’t much. But for the pack, it was a start.

I caught myself watching her far too often.

So did Imogene.

When the others drifted off to eat, Imogene pulled me aside, out past the longhouse where the river covered our voices. “What’s going on with you and Ruby?”

“You know. We’ve discussed this already.” I’d told her my plan to invite Ruby in when she’d arrived at the hut. Imogene hadn’t been happy about my decision and had tried to talk me out of it until I’d told her that Ruby was our best chance at surviving the Crimson Order.

Imogene’s nostrils flared slightly as she assessed me. “No, not that. There’s something more between you two.”

My muscles tensed. I didn’t deny it.

“Conan?”

I took a deep breath of cold air and let it out slowly. The mist of it hung between us and faded.

Her folded arms dropped to her sides. “Oh no.” She stared at me, eyes widening. “Impossible. The pack won’t trust her. I don’t trust her.”

I met her probing gaze. For years, she’d stood at my side. She’d been with me through battles and burials. I wouldn’t insult her by lying to her. “I know.”

She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “A Crimson Order field operative and a wolf? That’s unheard of. Unnatural.”

My wolf stirred, restless and certain. Ours, he said, as if that settled it.

“She’s not Crimson any longer,” I declared. It was true. “She’s with us.” After a weighed exhale, I added, “And she’s still the best chance we have.”

Imogene glanced at the longhouse, where lamplight spilled from the doorway and Ruby still bent over the map, and back at me.

“Gods help us,” she muttered. “Gods help us all.”

The river rushed past below us, loud with snowmelt. Imogene rubbed her forehead, then dropped her hand to her side, fixing me with one of her resigned looks, when she knew I wouldn’t change my mind.

“Does she know?”

“No.”

“Are you going to tell her?”