The council chamber was packed wall to wall. Wolves filled every seat and crowded every standing space, their eyes fixed on the man in irons at the center.
Carlos Suarez, merchant by trade and betrayer by choice, stood pale but upright. His wrists were bound, but he did not sag against them.
The head elder raised his hand, and the room quieted. His voice was calm, but it carried like stone dropped in water.
"Carlos Suarez. You are accused of paying Grey Kallen to funnel coin into Korrin Vale's hands. You are accused of funding the kidnapping of Tristan Mendez and the trapping of Alpha Shannon Dravenmoor. You are accused of conspiring with mercenaries after Terry Suarez's sentence, and of turning blood into business. Do you deny these charges?"
Carlos lifted his chin. "No. I do not deny them."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber. Bran Calder's fists clenched until his knuckles whitened. Mira's bow twitched against her shoulder.
The elder pressed. "Do you regret them?"
