“Once you enter that ring, you either submit or force the others to submit,” Jarem said. “You kill or be killed.”

“He’s just as bad as Gabriel,” a black-bearded elder named Bellamy said. Lisa had told me that he claimed to have once been an actual pirate of the Caribbean. “We lose the pack to Caleb no matter which coward we choose.”

“He’s not a coward,” I said. “He’s just not a five-hundred-year-old barbarian who thinks indiscriminate killing is the right thing to do.”

“I’ll fight,” Daniel said. “I’ll use my mojo, or whatever it is. But I won’t kill any challenger other than Caleb.”

Lisa looked at Daniel with pride in her eyes. “Your strategy will have to be to wound other challengers to the point that they’ll beg to submit.”

Daniel swallowed hard. I knew he didn’t like the idea of wounding anyone like that, but he didn’t protest Lisa’s suggestion. It was better than killing random strangers.

“Then you’ll lose,” Bellamy said, shoving his face right up into Daniel’s. “Maybe Marrock had the right idea walking out. You’re too much of a child to understand what it takes to be a leader.”

Daniel stood his ground against Bellamy, glaring into his eyes. “You’re welcome to challenge me yourself in the ring,” Daniel said, squaring his jaw. I could feel the power radiating off of Daniel’s shoulders until the giant bearded man took a large step backward, away from Daniel.

“No,” Bellamy said. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you won’t kill, you’ll be killed.” He pointed at me. “And your girlfriend, too.”

Daniel glanced away when he mentioned me.

“Not necessarily.” Talbot, who had been otherwise silent, said. He adjusted his baseball cap on his head. “What if another challenger in the ring took out anyone who refused to submit for you?”

“There’s no guarantee that would happen,” Jarem said. “The other challengers will fight among themselves, certainly, but we can’t just hope they pick each other off for us.”

“But what it there was a guarantee?” Talbot asked. “What if I entered the ring as a challenger?”

Daniel narrowed his eyes at him. His brows furrowed. “You want to challenge me?”

“No. I’d be a ringer. I’d fight side by side with you and Grace, but I have no qualms about killing anyone who tries to harm her. I can be your backup executioner—if that’s what the circumstances called for.”

My father threw his hands up. “I cannot condone this idea. I can’t listen to you all plan to kill people.…”

“Then maybe you should go home,” Bellamy snapped at him.

“Even if it is the only means to get your son back?” Jarem asked him.

Dad closed his mouth and dropped his hands to his sides.

Daniel still had his eyes narrowed at Talbot. “And then what?” he asked him. “What do you do at the end of the ceremony?”

“Then I’d submit to you,” Talbot said. “Ensure you’re the last man standing.”

“And what would you be getting out of it?” Daniel asked.

“Your trust. A place in your pack. Except for my brief time with the Shadow Kings, I’ve been on my own since I was thirteen. I want a place to belong.” He smiled at Daniel—one of his warm smiles that made you feel like you’d been friends for ages.

“I like this plan,” Jarem said.

Daniel gave a great sigh and looked at me. “You should have a say in this, too, Grace. Do we bring Talbot into the ring with us? You and I can fight, but we let him do the dirty work?”

I looked from Daniel, to Talbot, and then to my father. He turned away so I couldn’t see his face. I imagine it would be hard listening to your little girl deliberating over whether or not people should be allowed to die.

“Okay,” I said. “But only if circumstances absolutely call for it. I think every challenger, no matter how ruthless, should be given the opportunity to submit first.”

“I agree,” Daniel said.

“If that’s what you wish,” Talbot said.

Daniel extended his hand toward Talbot, and the two of them shook on it, sealing the deal. Something stirred in the pit of my stomach as I watched them. Most likely anxiety, knowing that in a little more than thirty-six hours’ time, we’d all be fighting for our lives, side by side.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

Other than the few rules Jarem had already told us about—the boundaries of the ring, and the last-man-standing-wins part—it started to become clear to me that the rest of the ceremony was pretty much a no-holds-barred free-for-all.

Weapons of any variety were allowed—except for vehicles. Challengers could choose to fight in either wolf or human form—the most advantageous choice being wolf, as most Urbat were stronger in that state. And any pack was allowed to send in as many challengers as they wished.

“Then how come the other packs don’t send in tons of challengers? We’re sending in more than one fighter? Don’t they stand a better chance with more?” I asked.

“Usually only one champion is sent into the ring by their pack because they risk losing each person who enters,” Lisa said. “Most packs are small. The Etlu clan is forty strong—or was before Marrock and his lackeys left and you all joined us. The Oberot Clan has twenty-seven members. But most of the other packs are less than a dozen members each. If you only have ten people in your pack, you’re not going to risk five of your men. Even two would be considered too great a risk, you see?”

I nodded.

“It’s the lone wolves you really have to worry about.

Challengers who have no pack of their own to be accountable to. They always fight the dirtiest.”

“Who we need to be the most worried about is Caleb,” Talbot said. “We’re getting off track, worrying about anyone else. Any other challenger is merely a distraction. Caleb’s coming here with an army of Gelals and Akhs and Urbats. Don’t forget that. And he doesn’t give a damn about casualties. He’s planning on bringing as many Shadow Kings into that ring as he can.”

“And he must have a lot of Gelals and Akhs,” Daniel said. “Based on how many he was willing to send to that trance party.”