“Not all our women take mates,” Mela interrupted. “Leyus chooses the ones who can be mothers. The rest of us help with their children, but do not have any of our own.”

“You’re forbidden from taking mates unless Leyus approves?”

Mela shrugged. “The clan can only support so many.”

It was a strange concept, but on the other hand, it didn’t seem worse than the noble men and women in Forge whose marriages were dictated by politics.

“Pashla will be chosen this time,” said Adele quietly. “Especially since she fought so well in the Challenge.”

Mela tossed her head, making her curls bounce lightly on her shoulders. “I’m glad. Brona got what he deserved.”

“Wait.” Kyra pounced on the topic. “What do Brona and the Challenge have to do with it?”

“Brona was a—” Mela stopped at Adele’s warning glance. “Brona and Pashla never liked each other. They disagreed about many things, from where we should travel to our dealings with James. When it became clear that Leyus would allow a new clanswoman to take a mate, we knew Brona would try something. He wanted his sister to be chosen, but Leyus favored Pashla. It wasn’t right for him to abuse the Challenge though.” Mela looked indignantly at Adele. “I can say that. It’s true.”

Adele sighed. “I do think Pashla would make a better mother than Naleh. She sees things differently sometimes, but she’s good with the young ones, and patient. I’ll wager she’s patient with you too, Kyra.”

A roar echoed through the forest, similar to the one Kyra had heard the morning of the clan gathering. Treetops rustled in the distance, as if demon cats were traveling. Both Makvani girls turned toward the sound.

“Leyus calls,” said Mela. The two of them licked the berry juice off their fingers and stood.

“Should I—” Kyra paused.

Mela and Adele exchanged a look. “This gathering is not for you, halfblood,” said Adele. She gave Kyra an apologetic look before taking Mela’s hand and pulling her away.

Kyra stared after them, puzzled by Adele’s last statement. Granted, she wasn’t surprised to be left out of their gatherings, but something about the way Adele had spoken made it seem like something more. She pressed a hand on her bandaged middle, probing her wound and trying to remember how far the clearing had been. It was a good distance, but she was stronger than she had been last time. If she walked slowly, she could probably make it there by herself.