The Grand Council Arena had been cleaned since my Trial by Shift.
Now there were chairs. Twelve thrones for the Alpha Kings, and one small, low stool in the middle of the pit for me.
A low stool. On purpose. So I would look small.
Alpha King Rourke of Iron Fang was already waiting when we arrived. He was huge, bald, with a beard that had meat in it. He was famous for two things: never losing a debate, and believing that she-wolves should be seen and not heard, and should be thin enough to fit on his arm.
He looked at me - red wrap top, black leggings, vine crown crooked because I ran all the way here - and laughed.
"So this is the plus-size White Alpha," he boomed. "My daughter is bigger. And she's twelve."
My pack, standing at the top of the pit, growled. Jaxon, still in his Omega s
