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Bittern hisses as she jerks her arm free of Grouse’s grasp. “You can’t seriously expect to watch him suffer at Wolf’s hands?”

“Of course not!” Grouse barks as she gingerly lifts Cyrus’s head. “But do you really want to keep working for him? Do you want to follow Wolf as the new king of Cassè?” Bittern’s silence is answer enough. “Or do you want to be together, so that when the moment of escape finally presents itself, we can all find our way to freedom?”

Fox hisses under his breath, eyes darting to see if anyone listens who shouldn’t hear his words. “I meant what I said earlier. My loyalty to Wolf is forfeit. We’ll care for Cyrus, and when the time is right, we’ll leave the pack behind. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Cyrus whispers brokenly as a hacking cough sputters from his lips.

***

“They are learning quickly now that the infidel is gone.” Ekard’s gravelly voice scratches through the silence as Drake sits down to his evening meal.

“The nomads were learning from us all along. They just did not want to show how much they really knew in front of Iris,” Drake mutters under his breath, scratching his plate with his fork absentmindedly as he thinks about their predicament. “The nomads have to learn to trust Iris and Siri. We’ve got to find a way to smooth the tensions—”

“Why? Why should we make things easier for them?” Ekard scoffs, pawing at the ground with his long, dark claws. “That little female is not fit to lead an army! She will crumple under the eyes of the Déchets’ king! And her scrawny white Ddraig will never hold the respect of the males of our kind.”

“I know you think that we are better suited to lead, but it seems it was not meant to be,” Drake replies, leaning back heavily against his Ddraig’s scarlet scales. “Iris is new to her position, but she’s not as bad as you make her sound. She’s doing the best she can, just like any of us would. Siri seems capable, and she obviously loves her Cadogan. She will take care of Iris and help her become the leader she needs to be. But you do them no justice, Ekard. As far as I can tell, you’ve been against them from the start.”

“I have my reasons,” Ekard grumbles, flicking his long tail with so much force that the breeze smothers the fire. “Siri allied herself with that good for nothing Suryc—”

“When she could have picked you, I know,” Drake finishes, all previous traces of compassion draining from his words. “You’ve told me this story a million times, Ekard, and I’m sorry, but Siri’s made her choice. It’s time to let it go.”

“If she’d picked me, then you’d be coupled with the first Cadogan, and none of this would be a problem. Now, we have to earn our rights the hard way.” Ekard stamps the ground with such strength that Drake feels himself bouncing with each impact.

“Iris gave you authority over the nomads’ Ddraigs! Why can’t you be happy with that?” Drake challenges, wishing there was a way to ease Ekard’s jealous heart. “We can be content with our new life, Ekard. Surely that’s enough.”

“For now,” Ekard agrees with a snort, hardly mollified by his Cadogan’s words. To him, training the nomads is cheap; it’s like tossing a dime-store trinket into a box full of priceless jewels. “Proximity to power does not make us priceless though. What if she strips us of our ranking once she returns? What if they decide we’re expendable?”

“Now you’re worrying over things that have not even come to pass,” Drake mutters, stirring the dregs of his stew, his appetite gone. As ridiculous as Ekard’s words have been, a kernel of truth burrows into his own mind. Priceless. Expendable. Iris already distrusts us, doesn’t she? What if Ekard is right?

“Then we’ll challenge for the right to rule,” Ekard declares, reading Drake’s concerns with glee. “If she makes a move against us, we will take over this place. We have supporters among the nomads—it won’t be difficult!”

“It’s not a question of difficulty; it’s a question of loyalty,” Drake murmurs, carefully turning his head toward the nomads’ camps, wondering how many would truly support their claim for power.

“I’m loyal to you! Not my species, Drake.” Ekard whirls his large head, folds of skin whipping out around his face like a leathery mane. “Say the word, and I’ll be ready to fight.”

“This is crazy talk,” Drake scoffs, his hands trembling from the rush of adrenaline causing his heart to flutter. “We’ll speak no more about it.” Tossing the remains of his meal aside, Drake curls up against his Ddraig’s back, his mind alive with possibilities. He stays awake long after every fire in the camp has died and all the stars are twinkling high overhead in their heavenly beds. Just before the soft light of the dawn breaks over the horizon, Drake sighs, his decision made. “Only if Iris moves against us will we challenge.”

Ekard says nothing, but in the darkness, his teeth gleam in a predatory smile.

Chapter 12

It’s taken almost a week since their fight with the nameless unchosen, but Wolf and his pack finally reach the coast. The dull sound of the ocean’s waves, which had been a distant whirr, now grows into a ferocious, unending roar. Cutting due east once his feet strike sand, Wolf’s efforts are rewarded by finding a stretch of secluded beach near enough to the House of Piranhas without giving away their location. “We’ll make camp here,” Wolf announces from his place at the front of the caravan, wrinkling his nose against the salty brine of the ocean.

“What’s the plan of attack, boss?” Jackal asks, his eyes drinking in the sight of the churning waves.

“We will attack the House of Piranhas quickly, so we do not lose the element of surprise. Taking the fight to our enemy gives them some home-field advantage, but it’s a risk worth taking. I’d rather not have the battle waged

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