Gabel would have left me there. I didn't delay in my grim task, because if I had thought too much about it I would have lost my nerve.

Splattered with the blood of multiple wolves and with the taste of more blood in my mouth, and the scent of grief and blood and thanks in my snout, I loped up the hillside in pursuit of the Iron Moon.

In pursuit of my pack.

It was very surreal to think of them that way, or to feel the instinct pressing in my chest that I had to be close to them, that I had to get back to them, that I couldn't be left behind. My distress that they would leave me behind.

My brain just reeled. But as an Oracle, I was used to being overwhelmed with a thousand thoughts and emotions and things clouding my brain. I had been trained to deal with them. Others might have wandered around in a stupor or staggered but I just ran after the Iron Paw and chased the promise I would rationalize everything later.

Gabel would have left me there to prove a point: that the wolves didn't matter, and my choice to deal in mercy didn't matter either.

I caught up with them a mile up the forest. I shoved my way through the males up to Gabel's shoulder.

He looked more like a Hound than ever with blood clumping his ugly, oily fur and death on his breath. He turned one amber eye to me to acknowledge me as I fell into place by his shoulder, but did not slow his pace. Instead, he increased it.

I suppose they had sort of waited for me.

Sort of.

I'd tell you that I didn't remember finishing those wolves off, and that my mind hid it from me behind a dreamy veil. But that would be a lie. I remembered all of it, as if the Moon had etched it into my brain like Her sharpest vision. I would never forgot even the smallest detail of what I did in that forest that day. The only thing that kept it from eating my mind was that it had been the right thing to do. The thing that I would have wanted for myself, or for any wolf from my pack.

And I hoped to the Moon that the Iron Moon hunters found those cowardly RedWater runners and tore them into a thousand shreds. I had given the fallen a good death. A merciful death.

A warrior's death.

Late that night Gabel left our bed for an hour, then returned. "The hunters are back."

I had laid awake until that time, unable to sleep. "Success?"

"Yes."

I managed to sleep a bit. At least something had gone right, and the hunters had punished the cowards who had abandoned their packmates.

In the morning at breakfast the hunters were acknowledged for their success. Gabel raised his cup to them all, and Master of Arms Flint led the howl that celebrated returning, victorious warriors.

"We shall send this," Gabel raised a cloth bag filled with many small objects. "To the RedWater! So that Alpha Travis knows not only is he an arrogant fool, but his warriors are cowards."

More howls.

The hunters had pulled the cowards' canines. Pulling a wolf's canine teeth was a desecration of the corpse. A final humiliation and exactly what those cowards had deserved. They hadn't really fled, Gabel had told them to run, and then they had left their packmates to die. That made it a suitable punishment.

But there seemed to be more teeth in that bag than there should have been.

Only six wolves have fled, if I remembered correctly.

Gabel held up the bag and showed it around so everyone could see it, his face alight with a wide, handsome grin. The wolves cheered and applauded, a few made noises of contempt.

Then, noticing that I wasn't cheering our warriors, he turned his ocean gaze to me. "You are not pleased, Lady Gianna?"

Sudden silence.

Oh crap.

His pointed menace pricked my insides. I looked at the bag. Should I lie? Questioning Gabel in front of the pack was dangerous. He could kill me. Punish me. But there weren't twelve fangs in that bag. There were many more, which meant that Gabel's hunters had pulled the fangs of the wolves who had died as warriors.

In my mind I suddenly saw Amber's beautiful wolf form lying dead on that forest floor, with her canines pulled, and a bag full of the canines dangling from Gabel's hand while he crowed about his victory.

There were rules to war and combat.

For just a second I saw Gabel's eyes flicker with doubt, then felt the pang reverberate down the Bond as my disapproval and resolve ignited.

I got to my feet. The silence deepened.

I was Gabel's BondMate. He could kill me if he wanted. Break the Bond if he wanted. I wouldn't be his puppet. If I was going to be his Queen, I would be a Queen. Not his sock doll.

He could get Platinum for that.

"May I see these trophies?" I held out my hand.

Gabel had no choice but to turn them over to me.

I opened the bag. The smell hit me first. Not the best smell in the morning. Inside were many more than twelve fangs. "The hunters pulled fangs from all the RedWater wolves."

"Yes." Gabel replied.

"But only six died as cowards." I said.

Absolute silence.

Gabel had no immediate reaction to that. I felt his shock that I would dare question him. It almost made me grin. In fact, his shock lasted a good couple of heartbeats. It gave me a boost of strength. Gabel really couldn't do anything to me except humiliate me and degrade me, and if I refused to be impressed with any of that, there just wasn't much he could use against me.

"Who cares?" one of the wolves behind me said, "They are all fools and idiots. Send the teeth back to Alpha Travis so he knows better!"

Hoots and fists pounding on the table. I had forgotten: a lot of these wolves were outcasts, rogues and criminals from other packs. But not all of them. Beta Hix watched me, while Second Beta Romero two seats over tapped a finger on his chin.

"Indeed." Gabel said, his eyes on me. "Who cares?"

"I care." I refused to back down, which was stupid. But I was also a female, and this ran right up against all my female instincts to care for my pack. Even the dregs of Iron Moon who would rather be able to do whatever sordid deeds Gabel set them to. I cared about them too. Because I had to.

"Why do you care about some dregs?" Gabel snatched the bag from me. "They're mongrels sent like cowards to hunt on our land because they were too afraid to face us!"

Howls of approval that made my skin prickle. Real fear curled within me. Had I made a terrible mistake? I swallowed. Gabel grinned at me, and his triumph and mocking of my paltry little attempt to resist him rubbed up against me.

I could have agreed with him and sat right now. It would have not been much of a loss of face to do that. I had had the courage to stand up, after all. Gabel hadn't ripped my head off. He out-argued me, I could just sit down and that would be the end of it.

I struggled. The wolves of Iron Moon didn't care. I didn't need the warriors turning against me. They wouldn't see this as me protecting their futures, they saw Gabel as too powerful to fail them as a leader, and me being the obnoxious, disrespected little BondMate that wasn't even good enough for formal presentations.

It was one thing for Gabel to kill me. But for him to sign my death warrant because his criminals-called-warriors wouldn't accept me? That wasn't how I wanted to die.

I thought quickly and came up with something else that would at least let me to protect a few of those teeth, and even the scales with Gabel. "I know the manner in which two of those wolves died," I told him. "Because I killed them. Grant me their canines, for they died bravely."

Mummers. In the great telling of the fight nobody had mentioned I had put two wolves down.

Gabel scowled at me. He was about to refuse, I felt it, when a voice said behind us, "If Lady Gianna decided those wolves died bravely, then it is for her to say."

Master of Arms Flint.

"What would an Oracle know of bravery?" one wolf spat.

"She-wolves have a different sort of courage than males." Flint's voice said matter of factly. "Their courage is in their hearts. A male's courage is in his balls. You can castrate a male to make him worthless, but you have to kill a female to stop her."

Gabel handed me the bag.

Did I sense... defeat... from him? It sure felt something like he had been bested, and with it were no other emotions. It was such an unfamiliar sensation to him he didn't even know how to feel about it.

Then, as I up-ended the bag of fangs right on the table, I felt the storm of anger roil towards me like the clouds of a burning fire.

I picked out the four fangs by smell. I clutched them in my hand. "These." I said. "These wolves had no choice in how they died. The others I care nothing for. Let Alpha Travis see what I think of his pathetic little attempt at intimidation."

The grimy fangs pricked my palm and my eyes felt sandy and swollen.

Gabel scooped the fangs back into the bag, angry at me for stealing four fangs from him, but mollified that I had granted him ten deaths.

I silently apologized to the wolves that didn't deserve to be de-fanged. I couldn't save them.

I should have thrown out the fangs, but for some reason, I felt compelled to wash them, bury them all in salt and set them before the Moon.

Maybe I was just riddled with guilt, afraid that if I just threw them out, someone might find them and think that they belonged to cowards.

Gabel seemed pensive when he came to bed that night. I had borrowed one of the books from his library and absorbed in it, and the fact that he didn't disrupt me with his churning presence when he lifted the blankets is what drew my attention. Usually Gabel was like a swinging sword blade. He moved with sharp, active purpose the rest of the time.

"I think I underestimated you, buttercup."

I looked sideways at him. Out of habit, I contemplated the Bond between us for clues. I didn't sense anything remarkable.

He smiled. It thrilled me, and it frightened me. It was his most typical smile, the one full of amusement and cunning. He slid closer to me. I squeaked. The book tumbled from my hands. His naked skin slid along mine.

Dazed, his blue eyes captured mine, and his fingers slid over my neck to cup my chin. I couldn't breathe. He felt so warm, his skin soft. "Yes," he said, "I think I did."

He didn't elaborate on how he had underestimated me. My heart throbbed, and I could barely breathe. The Bond howled its pleasure, my mind couldn't think over its sound, but part of me scratched and clawed to not fall into the Bond's swirling clutches.

Gabel's lips pressed to mine. The now-familiar rictus of pleasure shook my body from skull to spine, my skin felt alive, I felt every inch of my flesh, every drop of blood. The Bond's howling increased.

He pulled back. "Yes," he restarted. "I think I did."

/***

Hi there, folks!

I am sorry for the delay, but as I explained in my message a few days ago (if you follow me, you already have heard this) I've just been super busy with real life, so everything has gotten shoved back. So much for schedules!

I see that each chapter of this story now has at least 1K reads. I also see we have now crested 30K words. 30,068 to be exact. So here's to 30K more? I guess. >_> But since you guys like it, I'll keep writing it!

But I expect cookies. ._.

Cheers-

Merry

(Your loyal pantster) 

***/