Ronan’s POV
Six of us in the stone room with the door back on its hinges and a fire lit, because the room is cold and because I want the noise of it under what we’re about to say.
Wren, dressed, sitting on the bench. Maren. Nell in the chair with her blankets. Rhys against the wall. Corrin standing by the door because I put him there myself an hour ago, and neither of us has yet said a word about what that means.
“Say it out loud,” Rhys says. “Somebody has to.”
“Then it’s me,” Nell says. “We’re not going to the bridge.”
“We’re not going to the bridge,” I agree.
“Which means the eleven don’t walk out.”
“On the first of the month, no.”
“Say the rest of it, Alpha.” Nell’s chin comes up. “You’re about to plan a thing that will make eleven people worse off before it makes them better, a
