Chapter 17. Twenty Wolves on the Ridge

Weston's POV

Marsh chose the road.

At the morning briefing in Danny Morrow's kitchen he unrolled an old Guard map on the table, put his finger on a logging track that ran along the creek into the Unclaimed woods, and said it was the most direct line to the stretch of border where the calves had gone missing.

Nobody argued. The six Guard riders with us had been mine a week ago. This morning they were his, and they looked at the map and not at me.

"It's narrow," I said. "Steep banks on both sides."

"It's quiet," Marsh said. "We're inspecting a border, Your Highness, not invading it. Quiet is what we want."

Josie was at the stove with her back to us, frying eggs for twelve, and she didn't turn around. But I saw her shoulders go tight when he said