Chapter 9 — The Deal on the Cliff

1994 Words

The vine burned my palms. Pebbles kept ticking past my boots and vanished into the dark. Above me, Albert's shadow leaned over the rim, bored and ready to leave. “Wait," I called up, breath breaking. “Do you want a deal?" He gave a small laugh. “You? Hanging there with bloody hands?" “Yes," I said. “Me." Silence stretched. Wind ran a cold finger along the cliff face. At last his boots scraped closer. “What kind of deal?" he asked. “I help you take Taylor's place," I said. “You help me live." Albert snorted. “I don't want his chair. I don't want a council room. I don't want obligations. I hunt where I like and sleep where I like. Alpha is a cage with nicer locks." “You're lying to yourself," I said. “You don't want the chair. You want the truth paid back." “About what?" “Your fath

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