We needed more than that. We needed fresh air. I’d been in the Rockies fewer than forty-eight hours, and I got angry every time I passed a window, because I longed to be out in the open on four paws, exploring unfamiliar ground, and trees, and streams. But instead I was stuck inside, repeating myself over and over to a tribunal who didn’t seem very interested in my answers to the questions they kept repeating. Although the whole marriage-and-children angle was a new development…

“What’s going on?” I repeated, sinking onto the plaid comforter as my father followed us into the room, closing the door at his back. “Why are they asking me personal questions? My social life has nothing to do with Andrew’s death.”

Michael flicked the wall switch and light flooded the room, illuminating more motel-quality furnishings. One whiff told me the room belonged to one of the Pierce boys—Parker’s brother, who was another of Blackwell’s enforcers.

Michael sat on the bed next to me and my father took the desk chair, meeting my brother’s eyes instead of mine. That couldn’t be good.

“Are they going where I think they’re going with this?” Michael asked our father, and again my temper flared. I hated being in the dark, especially on things that concerned me.

Our Alpha sighed. “Yes, I think they are.”

Michael’s eyes closed, and he cradled his head in his hands. “I didn’t think they’d really do it.”

“Do what?” I demanded.

My brother looked up, but not at me. “You have to tell her, Dad.”

My father nodded solemnly. Angrily. Then he met my eyes, and I saw in his the strength I’d always admired, and the brutal honesty I’d never been quite so fond of. “You aren’t on trial anymore, Faythe.”

“What?” I glanced at Michael, hoping to find something I understood in his expression. And I did. I found pain, and regret, and more anger than I’d ever seen on his face. “What does that mean?” My hands clenched around the comforter, and I couldn’t seem to uncurl them.

“They think you’re guilty, and they’re now debating your sentence.”

“What? No.” My head shook in denial of the truth even as it sank in. “Uncle Rick wouldn’t do that.”

Michael took my hand in his, drawing my attention along with it. “They don’t need him to find you guilty. They need a simple majority. Two out of three.” His focus shifted back and forth between my eyes, searching them for understanding.

“This can’t be happening.” I pulled my hand from his grip and rose from the bed, pacing the width of the room before I realized what I was doing. “This isn’t real. I didn’t mean to kill him. I infected him, but that was an accident. It was all an accident.”