I had only a few precious seconds to decide whether I’d rather choose the game we were betting on, or what I was willing to give Othello if I lost. It was a lose-lose situation. If I let Othello chose the game, he’d choose something I’d never have a chance of winning. If I let him choose the stakes, he could demand I put my entire pack up for grabs.
“If I choose the stakes, what’s to stop me from betting a napkin?”
“Good point,” Othello said. “Let’s say that whatever you put up as your half of the wager has to be a person. A wolf for a wolf. If you set the stakes, you get to choose which wolf. If you choose the game we’re betting on, the choice of prize is mine.”
I wasn’t sure whether he meant them to or not, but as Othello spoke, his eyes lingered on River’s body, and a lump rose in my
