It’s over now. It’s over, and I’m not going back to that filthy cage or the horrible monsters that look like men.
“Not one hair,” Sylas repeats, his deep baritone managing to be both fierce and soothing. “I’ll tear their throats out if they so much as try.”
August steps toward me as if he can shield me from the horrors inside my head, his teeth bared. “If I don’t get to them first.”
I take gulps of air, focusing on the solid warmth of Sylas’s hand, the determined blaze in August’s eyes. The tremors subside. My chest still aches, but the panicked tension releases enough that I can inhale fully.
Whitt has stayed where he was, a little apart from our cluster of three. In the past, he’s defended me—but he’s also accused me of threatening the cohesion between the cadre and their lord. I’m still not totally sure where I stand with him.
As long as Sylas wants me here, Whitt will follow his lord’s orders—I’m sure of that. But will this new development change his mind about whether my presence here does them more good than harm?
Even if it does, I wouldn’t expect him to show it. Whitt rarely lets much obvious emotion slip from behind his nonchalant front. He rubs his jaw, the storminess in his eyes retreating but not vanishing as his expression turns pensive.
“Whatever he was doing here and however unwelcome his visit, Cole can’t have observed anything damning,” he says in his dryly melodic voice. “Without the benefit of our mite here, Aerik and his pack will have lost themselves to the wildness of the curse last night as much as every other Seelie. He wouldn’t have been in any state to observe that the three of us appeared to have kept our heads.”
An idea that chills me rises up in my head. “What if they saved some of their ‘tonic’ and didn’t go wild at all?”
Sylas shakes his head. “It wouldn’t have worked. We tried that once, on the rare occasion when Aerik deigned to share portions of the tonic with us. Only some of the pack took it, so they could shepherd the others, and we set aside the rest in anticipation of being skipped over later. The next month, they didn’t bother with us, so we took some of the remainder—and it had no effect at all. It appears it’s not only necessary to get a taste of your blood but for it to be fresh as well.”
I guess that’s a small comfort.
Whitt makes a vague motion with his hand. “It is a concern that Cole was snooping on our lands at all. I’ve gathered that they’ve been traveling around asking questions all over the realm, but for them to have been here specifically on the night of the full moon doesn’t bode well.”
August frowns. “Yes. Why us? You don’t think Kellan let more slip than we realized…?”
He glances at Sylas in question. Kellan was the third member of Sylas’s cadre, but he wasn’t satisfied with that honor. From what the others have said, he’d been challenging Sylas’s authority and generally making trouble for a long time before I came into their midst. He particularly hated humans, and when he took that animosity to the point of attacking me, Sylas was forced to kill him to save me.
I didn’t like the man any more than he liked me, but the thought of him still sends a pang of guilt through my gut, knowing how it wrenched at Sylas to have to go to such extreme measures against one of his own.
Kellan made his unhappiness known to at least a few fae from other packs, but it’d sounded as if he’d been vague about the latest developments in the situation here. If it turns out he mentioned that Sylas had brought a human girl into the keep, one with some sort of special power—it wouldn’t take long for Aerik to put the pieces together.
Sylas stays silent for a moment, his thumb running up and down my shoulder in a steadying caress. “It seems unlikely that he could have said enough to alert Aerik without our recent guests also having some idea. Tristan didn’t raise any questions that had anything to do with Talia. But we were in and around Aerik’s fortress for some time. It’s possible we didn’t cover our tracks quite as thoroughly as we would have hoped.”
“If he had definite proof, he’d challenge you about it,” August says. “If they’re just skulking around, they might suspect, but they don’t know for sure.”
“That would be my conclusion as well.” Whitt swivels toward me. “What exactly did you see? Every detail from when you first spotted him.”
I drag in a breath, letting myself lean into Sylas’s touch as I dredge up the images. “Less than half an hour ago, I went to the window upstairs that faces south, wondering how the rest of the pack was doing. Cole—his wolf—was at the top of one of the nearest hills to the east of the forest. I couldn’t see him all that well either, that far away, but the color of his fur was obvious. When I noticed him, he was just standing there, staring at the keep. It couldn’t have been more than a minute. He didn’t move except tipping his head like—like I’ve seen him do as a man. Then he ran off down the far side of the hill, out of view.”
Whitt taps his lips, his face still solemn but a glint lighting in his eyes. “I’ll speak to the sentries and send a few to make discreet inquiries farther abroad. He was acting boldly, showing himself like that—they may be preparing for some kind of overt move. I’ll find out whatever I can so we can be ready for that.”
Sylas nods to him. “Good. Let me know as soon as you discover anything at all.” He turns me to face him with a gentle squeeze of my shoulder, his gaze catching mine with all that lordly intensity. In spite of my anxiety, my heart skips a beat with the memory of that dark eye smoldering as he touched me in his bed several days ago, of his mouth claiming mine just last night.
Both he and August have become something more than protectors to me. I’m not sure what, or where it’ll lead, but the thought makes my pulse thump faster all the same.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to delay your introduction to the rest of the pack by at least a couple more days,” he says with obvious regret. “We should wait until we have a better idea of what Aerik’s next move will be—and it’d be best if no one associated your arrival too closely with the full moon. It’s not my wish to keep you trapped in the keep. As soon as we can—”
I set my hand over his much larger one, giving him the bravest smile I have in me. “It’s all right. I don’t want to leave the keep if it might mean Aerik finds me. And I don’t want to put you at risk either.”
The affection that darkens his gaze sends another flutter of heat through my chest. “Our lady indeed.” He raises his hand to stroke it over my hair. “I swore you’d be safe here, Talia, and I mean to make good on that promise—come what may.”
Chapter Two
August
The day after a full moon, I’m always ravenous. Even though I was only in the feral state of the curse for a short part of last night, today’s no different. So, when my older half-brothers set off to deal with the potential threat of Aerik, a business that Sylas doesn’t seem to have any use for me in yet, it’s only natural that my first impulse is to head to the kitchen, which is my favorite room in the keep anyway.