The puzzle pieces clicked:
Celia and Gideon—old allies.
The tail-severing? Stage-blood drama.
The wolf siege? Pressure-cooker for my spirit-core.
Stronger core = brighter power-lode for her vengeance.
Cold logic, confirmed by Gideon's cracked-voice confession.
I still hated his mangy guts.
"Dungeon them," I growled to Silas. "Out of sight, out of mind."
His knuckles bleached white at "wolf-pack beating."
Murder-frost crept into his eyes as he hauled the trembling alpha away:
"You volunteered for debt settlement, Gideon."
The steel-pressed whisper left a damp patch on the wolf's leggings.