Free Edge of the Falls (After the Fall) by Nazarea Andrews

his eyes. His chest heaves, but he reaches for me, his long claws curving around my face. “Because you ask it—I’ll spare his life,” he growls. His eyes flick away into the darkness and I’m suddenly aware of the screams filling the night, calling to him. “But I can’t promise any of my pack will do the same. Take your boy and get out of the night, little one.” His hand—a white claw streaked with Berg’s blood, smooths down my hair, and I nod, once, as his eyes gentle. “Go,” he whispers. “I’ll take care of my pack.”
    Then he’s bounding away from me, screaming into the night. I stumble to Berg. He’s watching me, his eyes wide and wild and hurt. Bruises are already forming on his face, and I have no idea what we’re going to tell the Mistress.
    And for a moment, I can’t care—all that matters is that he stopped. I said to stop, and the ban-wolf had.
    And I have no idea why.
     

Part 2.
    Outside.
     

Chapter 9
     
    I lie in the darkness, listening. Shrieks and shouts come to me from beyond the Manor, muffled by thick walls and weathershields. The girls cluster around the window, and I roll over, propping myself up on my elbows to stare at them. Alba glances at me, a smug smile on her face.
    “The Rovers are back.”
    I smile, tight and amused. “Pity you’re busy with Longest Night preparations, isn’t it? I’m sure the boys will be quite disappointed.”
    Anger darkens her eyes and for a heartbeat I feel guilty. When she opens her mouth to protest, I rise from my bed, arching an eyebrow.
    Whatever she sees in my gaze silences her, and she stalks from the room. Lilith sends me a reproachful glare as she hurries out after Alba.
    Kaida looks up as I approach the window, a mix of fascination and fear filling her eyes.
    “Why are they here?” she asks, leaning into me.
    I shrug, studying the untidy column of metal carts and animals. The carts are pitted and scarred and new and shiny—a mixture of vehicles that speak eloquently of the brevity of the Rovers.
    But every cart bears the same tribe standard, a wide black swatch with a white tree standing over a bloody wolf. A smile curves my lips, and I find myself searching for him in the graylight.
    “Sabah?” Spiro is standing in the doorway, nervous and fidgety. “The Mistress wants you.”
    Her words, that night in the garret, whisper through me and for the first time I feel uneasy, hesitant. Am I the reason for the Rovers on our front step? Are those boys, racing the rapids and darkness, racing for any reason other than the adrenaline rush? Are they hoping to catch my eye? Is Hawke foolish enough to think it would work?
    I nod at Spiro and turn to my trunk. Kaida is already rummaging through it, her hair poking out in uneven tufts. I run a hand over it absently as she pulls out a cream dress and thrusts it at me. “Wear this,” she says.
    I arch an eyebrow at her, and she grins. “It’s your best outfit, Sabah—and you want to look good for Hawke.”
    “You are far too young to know about that,” I say primly, taking the dress from her. Her chiming laughter fills the room as she scampers away.
    The cream does look good on me, I reflect, brushing my hair back from my face and securing it in a loose knot. A few tendrils escape, curling around my face, and I hook them behind my ears, snatching the girls’ dirty clothes from the floor and hurrying downstairs. Gwen rushes past me, muttering under her breath. A small stack of cups wobbles and I reach out to steady it. “Mistress is waiting. Better hurry—she’s in a mood,” she says. “Here, take these cups. She’s in the kitchen.”
    Mistress is standing, pacing in front of the hearth, when I almost run into the kitchen. She glances up and frowns. “You took long enough.”
    “The Manor needs work—why didn’t you warn me they were coming?” I ask, dropping the cups into the washbasin.
    “Because I didn’t know,” she snaps. ”You know how the tribes are—they move