Penelope POV
"Pick up the blade, Governor, or admit you are nothing but a pretty voice in a silk suit," Khalani says.
His voice rattles the cheap glasses on the bar. The VIP section of the Lunar Pub is tight, packed with forty overlapping shoulders and the sour, hot stink of Alpha battle pheromones. Every man in the room wants blood.
I do not move. I keep my hands flat on the sticky oak of the table.
"The rules of the Claw Oath are simple," I say.
"I know the rules," Khalani snaps.
"Then you know you go first," I say.
Khalani grunts, shoving his way closer to the table. His chest is heaving. He is desperate to claw back the pride he lost downstairs in the car park. He slams his left hand down onto the wood, splaying his thick, hairy fingers.
He grabs the moonstone dagger from the c
