I drove back to the pack house with my mother's braid still in my hair, and Maddox was sitting in the dark kitchen with his boots on the table.
Maddox: Four hours.
Maddox: Four hours at your daddy's table. You think I don't know what they say about me in that house?
He did not shout, and that was how I knew it would be a long night.
He put my phone in his pocket and said I could have it back when I learned to answer it.
Maddox: Say you're sorry.
I said it on my knees until he liked the sound of it.
Later I lay in the dark and thought about my mother's kitchen, the bread smell, my father making too much food again.
Nobody at that table had ever made me say sorry to be allowed to eat.
In the morning the pack hall smelled like wax and coffee, and the county's silver sat on the long table in bars.
I carried the cups in with my eyes down, because that was the rule.
Hesper stood at the window in her dark dress, and she looked at me the way she looks at a chipped cup.
Hesper: Small cups today. We have county in the building. Try to look like a Luna.
Then the door opened and the smell came in before he did. Cedar and gun oil and cold air off the water.
My wolf stood up inside me like she heard her name, and I did not know why.
Sheriff Bryce set his hat down and the whole hall went quieter than the law usually makes a room.
Bryce: Four hundred pounds of confiscated silver left the county store room on Tuesday night.
Bryce: Your trucks were the only ones signed out on that road.
Maddox: You want to walk through my hall, Sheriff, you bring a warrant.
Bryce: I brought one.
He slid the warrant across the table. Maddox smiled the warm smile he keeps for people he is about to make sorry, and his hand closed around my wrist.
Maddox: Careful, love. You'll spill on the Sheriff's boots.
His thumb found the bone and pressed until my fingers went numb. The flinch went through me before I could swallow it.
He knows exactly where to hold me. He has had practice.
Bryce: Let her go.
He did not raise his voice. It was quiet and flat, and it landed on me like a cool hand on a hot bruise.
My wolf went still inside me, soft and quiet, for the first time in months.
Maddox: She's my mate. I'll hold her how I like.
Bryce: You'll let go of her arm while I'm talking to you, or I'll do it for you, and nobody in this hall will like how that ends.
Maddox let go and laughed, and three of his men laughed with him, and my face burned while I held the tray of cups.
Maddox: She's clumsy. Sweet as anything, but clumsy. You know how it is.
Bryce looked at me then, brown eyes steady, and he looked the way my mother looks when she is checking me for damage.
Bryce: Ma'am. Are you all right?
Elowen: I'm fine. Nothing is wrong.
My voice came out flat and polite, and my collar was high over the scars, and my heart was hitting my ribs like it wanted out.
Bryce: All right. I'll be back with men who don't take your orders, Alpha.
He put his hat on, and the hall breathed again, and I stood there with my wolf still quiet and still listening.
After the door shut, Maddox put his hand on my shoulder, soft this time, which is always worse than hard.
Maddox: You went white when he said your name. Why does a sheriff's voice do that to you?
Elowen: It doesn't.
Maddox: Good. Because you're mine, and I don't share. Not even a look. You understand me?
Elowen: I understand.
That night my wolf was curled up warm, like she was listening to something far off. Cedar and gun oil.
I told myself it was nothing. But some part of me had already decided, and I was not ready to hear it.