she was ready to hand him everything?
Edric slid me a sidelong glance, dripping with contempt.
It was always like this.
He had been a prodigy with ceremonial howls and moon-verse since we were pups.
All I ever knew was arithmetic, the lowly craft of trade-route wolves.
Every time he dazzled a gathering with some effortless verse, he would turn and give me that same look. That quiet, cutting dismissal.
I always assumed he would stay up on that pedestal forever.
But now, staring at his threadbare bundle, catching the faint sourness beneath the jasmine — the smell of a wolf who hadn't eaten well in a long time —
I wasn't so sure.
The steward's seal passed into his hands.
He straightened his spine and swept an arm toward the carved beams and painted pillars I had commissioned for the den:
"Rosewood and gilded wolves! This kind of gaudy excess is exactly why the territory has gone to ruin! Tear it all down within three days!
"Replace every piece with jade panels, carved with cranes, to reflect the dignity befitting a Crown Alpha's household!"
I swallowed hard.
Swapping everything for jade would cost ten times what the rosewood and gold had.
The house steward winced: