“He is fortunate to have such loyalty,” I said carefully.
Ollan held my gaze. “You have it now too, my lady. Vixor would give his life for you, as would I, now that you are his mate.”
Ollan’s words were like salt on a wound. Right now, Kassian was coldly furious with me. He wanted me gone, nothing more.
“Does your ladyship have any other questions for me?”
“I…” Thousands. I had thousands. “What happens now? I don’t know what is expected of me.”
“If you wish to get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast, I can explain the upcoming events for you, the new wife of a man like Lord Vixor,” Ollan said. Sympathy flashed in his eyes, and I felt that whatever it was he had to say, he knew it would make me unhappy.
“I’d rather eat here.” I felt weak for asking it, but I didn’t think I had the strength to play the part of the Silver Wolf’s bride in front of the other servants and guards. Not yet. Not after yesterday, and then the double-punch of this news.
“Of course, my lady,” Ollan said in his gracious voice. He bowed. “I shall return shortly. In the meantime, you may look in the closet for a robe, if you wish. Vixor keeps some there.”
After he left, I rose from the bed and crossed the shining expanse of black marble floor to find the closet he’d spoken of. A panel of blackened wood slid to the side at my touch, whisper-quiet, revealing a space filled with Vixor’s clothes. Rows of rich blacks—some silk, some wool, and some oiled leather. They smelled like cedarwood and the forest after the rain and musky, mannish scent with something wild to it that I couldn’t quite define.
And there, beyond the black, hung a second set of silver armor. Gleaming and cruel, a stark reminder of what stood between Kassian and his freedom. A symbol of the Alpha’s power over him, right here in his bedroom.
Anger burst in my chest, but with it, inspiration.
Silver.
I ran my hands over the cold metal. This suit was damaged—the metal was pitted and streaked with soot and scorch marks.
There had to be something here that I could take to protect myself. Against any typical Sworn, silver was deadly.
As I explored the armor, I discovered it was silver fixed atop flexible, oiled leather. I tugged at the bolts, wondering if I could remove a piece with my fingernails.
The shoulders were made of flexible, interlocking strips. I wiggled at them, and one strip moved beneath my hand. I tugged and wrenched at it until I pulled the piece free, and I stood panting in the dimness of the closet, my hands scraped and the shard of silver glinting in my palm.
Quickly, I tucked it into the center of my messily braided hair.
I had a weapon now.
Was I going to need it?
Voices sounded in the hall, and I crept to the wall and pressed my ear against the paneling, listening as the speakers came closer.
“Who does she think she is, anyway?” a woman’s voice snapped.
The answer was an indistinguishable murmur.
“She’s a fool if she thinks he’ll ever love her,” the first replied.
The voices faded, but I remained where I was, my ear pressed to the wall and my heart thudding.
CHAPTER THREE
I STOOD STILL for the length of three breaths, my heart pounding, and then, I grabbed the nearest robe and shut the closet door behind me.
The robe was gray velvet. It swallowed my small frame and dragged on the floor around my ankles as I returned to the bed and sat with my legs tucked under me. I could feel the silver shard hidden in my hair as if it were a scalding brand. My heart skittered.
What was this wild plan of mine going to lead to?
Once, when I was thirteen and dealing with a bad surge of rage and pain, I put on my red cloak, took a knife from the kitchen, and crept into the forest, hoping I’d come across a Sworn soldier by chance. I’d roamed the woods until midnight, the knife clutched in one sweaty palm and my resolve hammering at me like a blacksmith. I’d spotted a patrol and sneaked in their direction, planning to strike first and think later.
In the end, I’d tripped over a root, rolled down a hill of thorny underbrush, and lay stunned at the bottom, gazing upward at the glimpse of stars I could see through the leafy branches stretching overhead. As I choked and coughed and waited for my breath to return to my lungs, I’d wondered if I had a death wish.
I hadn’t known the answer then, and I found I didn’t know it now.
My hand crept up to the half-healed scar on the back of my neck.
The place where the seed that tracked me as a human had once been inserted beneath my skin.
Snow had torn the seed out with a knife before I escaped the city so I couldn’t be tracked or sensed on the run, and Kassian had replaced it before I’d faced Kryf so not to arouse suspicions, for the Sworn would’ve sensed that I didn’t have one. He’d fixed it in place with a bandage so I wouldn’t have to endure another cutting to remove it.
The seed was gone now—it must have fallen off during the night. Nothing but the flap of adhesive remained.
I searched the bed but found no seed. Hissing a curse, I flipped over the pillows and crouched to peer into the gloom beneath the bed.
Still no seed.
I needed that damn seed to move freely through the city, and now, I’d lost it.
I was adjusting the top covers in hopes of finding the seed among their folds when a knock sounded at the door, and Ollan reappeared, bearing a tray laden with steaming bowls and pots. He laid the tray at the foot of the bed and bowed.
“Please,” he said, mistaking my search for cleaning, “don’t concern yourself with tidying up. A maid can do that for you. You are the lady of the house now.”
“Ollan,” I said as I temporarily abandoned search and lifted a lid on the tray to reveal a mound of muffins. “Is there anything in the house that I can wear besides this robe?”
“A seamstress will be here this afternoon to make sure you are properly fitted. I apologize for the delay. Your arrival was unexpected.”
He put it so politely. Unexpected. As if I’d merely dropped by for tea, and not held a sword in my hands and called for the name of their master across an arena of bloodied sand. What a shock it must have been to everyone here. Suddenly, they had a new mistress.
“I heard servants talking in the hall. They said things…” I paused. “Not nice things.”
Ollan frowned.
“The household is, ah, surprised, my lady. They thought Lord Vixor might select a Chosen girl from the capital city.”
“You mean, some of the Chosen grow up here?” I asked, startled.
I’d never even thought about it, but I supposed there were humans living here, after all. Some of them undoubtedly had daughters with the proper compatibility with the Sworn. I’d always seen the Chosen as girls wrenched from the countryside against their will. Were some of the Chosen bred to this purpose here within the city? Groomed and appreciated from the start?
“Yes,” Ollan said. His voice was careful now, but his eyes were still kind, as if he knew what thoughts were running through my head. “There are old human families here, humans who have long shared a relationship with the Alpha.” He hesitated a little to long, the way someone does when deliberating whether to offer information that someone might need but doesn’t know to ask for.