Blackfeather Woods and he spent a long time watching from his lonely wooden tower

it was wintersbane who first spoke, and finally relmyna drew aside her gaze to regard the northerner. the reactions of the other wolves assembled went unnoticed. a favor. though her stare remained impassive, unreachable during the rumble of his plea, only his promise of a trade saved the gamma's offer from being outright spurned.
mou.
what have you done?
her eyes moved to the boy's scarred face, to the stone she had given him lodged in its empty socket of bone. never had she heard him speak so much before, and she was silent until he had finished. it was a worse thing than she had imagined: there was a bounty upon the sithis-touched creature, and more than before was she convinced the redhawks would seek to drench the wood in blood once more.
he offered himself to be slaughtered — would his price be paid if she sent him with fire back to the redhawks? his transgression was great, and the listener knew if she ordered it, mou would never return to them.
but relmyna did not care for those who had murdered cicero, and a dark feeling of gratitude for mou's ending of the alpha's litter welled sharply in her heart. he did not know he had done it, however — screech was not a name she knew. only mou, and whatever had been done, he belonged to blackfeather now. he was not a trade for the wretch they had brought to the cave, nor a payment to murderers.
and then maegi, and finally the cold in the listener's gaze faltered — maegi melonii, follower not of the old gods, heir to the throne, pleading for mou in the face of his offer. relmyna's jaw tightened, and for a long moment she said nothing.
you are not a sacrifice, mou. i do not care what you did to the redhawks; this is your home, and your place is here. with maegi, she went on, turning her gaze back to the girl she still considered her eldest in spite of herself. you have nothing to offer if i send you. all they know is blood. they will see only that you are blackfeather.
a breath; a pause, during which relmyna glanced toward the silver-cloaked warrior, if only for a steadying moment. no one is going to the redhawks except for myself and wintersbane. it falls to me to protect blackfeather, and i am not sending the young to do my work.
kove was their dark master; naught must befall him. the pack would go on without relmyna if the redhawks took their pound of flesh. her choice of companion in wintersbane was twofold: the strength of this favour, and his own might, his ability to perhaps escape where she would fail.
enough. what i have said will stand. do not come near her. relmyna glanced between mou and maegi again, her heart sundered. sheogorath had been her master, cicero her lover. her affection for the dead man was not affected by the actions of what he had done when he was not himself. a boy named screech had hurt her enemies — that was all.
it is safer this way. her stance was definite, heavy with the tension of the moment. 
presently, the woman's gaze burned toward fire, and there was no kindness there. she would not warn the redhawk wolfess of what would befall her if she attempted escape, but sithis was a god of blood, and would gladly purge mou's sin with the cut throat of another.