For my sake, Uncle Fenris never took a mate. He raised me as both father and mother, his massive presence a constant shield against a world that had already taken so much from me.
He had loved me so fiercely. Why would he leave everything to a stranger?
I refused to accept it. Again and again, I watched the Moon-witness recording of the blood-oath will, certain something was wrong. Something missing.
My hand froze. My pupils contracted sharply.
I knew what it was. The recording lacked Elder Eamon—the witness who should have been present.
Elder Eamon was the most respected member of my mother's bloodline, a wolf whose word carried the weight of ancient law. Uncle Fenris had been clear: only with Elder Eamon present to witness the oath would the succession be valid.
I scrambled to find the recording of Uncle Fenris's first blood-oath will—the one that named me as heir. Elder Eamon stood right there in the image, his silver-streaked fur unmistakable.
Excitement surged through me. I leaped to my feet, already burning to expose Alaric Ravenhart for what he truly was.