Irun my fingers along the books in one of the rooms downstairs. The air in here smells wise and reminds me of the library at the priory. Not that I can read any of it. Only the nobles and the prioresses ever learned letters back in Raingreen. My mother may have had aspirations for me to join the sisters, but once they burned Prioress Lenitia, she changed her mind about it.
It’s been two days since I’ve seen Vander, though I swear that sometimes when I wake in the night, it’s as if he’s there. Or perhaps just been there and gone. A hint of warmth in the air, the scent of sweet smoke. I’ve fast come to recognize the smell of him.
My crutch clicks along the stone as I make my way around the room and stop near the dwindling fire. The furniture in here is much like the rest in the keep—each piece of it far too large for mortals but comfortable all the same. I sit on the nearest sofa, the upholstery some sort of animal hide, and kick up my feet. My aching leg throbs, but I refuse to let it keep me in that bedroom for one moment longer. It’s healed far more quicklythan any wound I’ve ever had. The skin is woven back together, only some pink scarring remaining to mark the injury. But the soreness remains, and Lenka says it’s still healing, getting stronger. Moving around has to help, especially if that means I get to investigate the keep.
I wasn’t lying when I told Vander I was going mad in there—just this morning, right before dawn, I could’ve sworn I heard voices outside my window. A female arguing with someone rather heatedly. But when I hopped over to the glass, there was nothing outside except wind and snow and the mountains far away.
“Getting around easier now?” A low voice sends a shiver down my spine, and I turn to find a man striding in and plopping onto the couch opposite me. He cracks open a book and starts reading, then glances at me over the top of it. “I know you can talk. Pretty sure I heard you scream when you first saw me.” His eyes are a yellowy green. Like a cat. Or … or like a wolf.
“You’re the wolven?” I swallow hard, alarm bells screeching in my mind.
“I’m Brin,” he corrects. “And yes, I’mawolven.”
I stare. He doesn’t look like he did when I first saw him. Now he looks almost like a man. A big one with thick brown hair and bushy brows, but still a man. No claws. No fangs. Just a beard and big hands, the backs dusted with dark hair.
“We simply can’t keep meeting like this.” He smiles, the fair skin next to his eyes crinkling. “People will say we’re in love.”
“What?” I can barely find my voice. In love? With a beast that steals infants from their cribs?
The crinkles subside, his eyes narrowing. “Tell me, are all mortals this uptight?”
I can only blink. Will he hurt me? I don’t know. Vander has promised me time and again that I’m safe here, but plenty of mortals have gone to their doom trusting in the promises of the creatures of Oblivion. All my childhood nursery rhymes can attest to that.
He sighs and lifts his book, hiding his face from me. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, but you’re not my type. So don’t go getting any ideas.”
Ideas? What is hetalkingabout?
I scrabble to grab my crutch, but I only manage to knock it to the floor where it clatters loudly and skids away, landing at his feet.
“Is this a plea for attention?” He closes his book, then leans down and grabs my crutch. “I thought Vander was giving you plenty, but this little ploy says differently.” He holds the crutch out to me. “Here.”
I freeze. Will he grab me if I try to take it? Is this a trick?
“Gods, I don’t know how Vander stands you. Are you always this scared?”
“I …” I swallow hard. “Yes.”
His eyebrows rise a little. “At least you’re honest. Rare in mortals, from what I’ve heard.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Here, take the crutch. As I said, I’m not interested in you in the slightest, so you can stop playing games.”
He thinks I’m toying with him? Confused doesn’t scratch the surface of what I’m feeling as I reach out and gingerly retrieve the crutch.
The moment he lets go, he slides back onto his sofa and opens his book again. “You can go.” He flicks his fingers at me as if flinging off some sort of crud. “I’m not going to ravish you no matter how hard you try.”
What? How dare he? “You eat children!” I blurt.
The book shakes.
I recoil, trying to press myself against the couch while holding out my crutch like a weapon. I might not be able to defeat him, but I swear to the gods I’ll put up a good fight.
A laugh reverberates around the room. I feel like my eyes might be bugging out of my head. What is happening?
The book lowers again, and the wolven is guffawing, his eyes closed as he howls with laughter. Literallyhowls.
Something bangs in the hallway, and Vander rushes in, frost in his hair, his wings spread and propelling him at impossible speed. He rushes to me and snatches me into his arms, sending my crutch flying again.
