Roman appears calm beside me, but he’s suddenly very still. “Reaper,” he says. “I sensed her presence.”
He takes a deep breath, but the tension remains in his shoulders as he continues. “Reaper and I have a healthy respect for each other, but I wouldn’t trust your life with her in the Wilds; you’d be safer with any of the other creatures.”
“She saved me,” I tell him, a waver in my voice as memories of the Forbidden Lands assault me again—not just the bats, but the thorns and the souls. Ingrid shifts on my shoulder, seeming to react to the sudden spike in my adrenaline. “Without Reaper’s help, I would have been killed long before you arrived.”
Roman hesitates, his forehead wrinkling as his brows draw together. He seems unsure, and that almost never happens. He once told me that all of Hell’s creatures belong to him, but Reaper seems to be in a category of her own.
I lift my hand to show him my palm, wondering if I’m about to blow his mind. “I think she bonded with me.”
The shimmer catches a beam of light, and I gasp as Roman moves at superspeed to snatch my hand into his. He examines the bond, and then his gaze drops to the four wolves at my feet.
“Shit,” he says softly.
“What?” I ask, but the tension in his eyes when he looks at my wolves confirms for me the suspicion I’ve been pushing away since I met Reaper. I barely breathe. “They’re hers. Aren’t they?”
“Her pups,” he confirms. “Your father was the only demon who ever got close to Reaper. They didn’t bond—not like you have—but she was known to walk at Jareth’s side the same way I did.”
My eyes widen with surprise. “You mean, in the city?”
“Around its outskirts, and visible to other demons. She would prowl along beside him and make it clear they had an alliance that she would not easily give to another.”
His hold on my hand softens, his thumb brushing across my palm and wrist, swirling, soft brushes. “Your father’s blood would have drawn her to you, but your bond with your four demon wolves is so pure that she would have recognized you immediately and countedyouas one of her pups.”
I’m startled, remembering the way she licked the blood from my bleeding palm. “As one of her pups?”
Roman nods. “As a daughter she would care for and die for. The same way she would die for them.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Ithought I was going to blow Roman’s mind, but it’s my heart that is shaken by this news.
Temple whines softly, and I drop to my knees, welcoming the energy that passes between us, realizing that we’re even more strongly connected than before. Blitz and Luca push closer to me, pressing against my legs and throwing me a touch off-balance, but I welcome the contact. Even Ace nudges up to me, and I remember the way he licked me—such a rare reaction—when Roman opened the door to them.
“Can we find her again?” I ask Roman, needing to do so for my wolves. And myself.
“She will seek you out,” Roman says. “She must sense her pups’ energy already, but she won’t step easily into my territory. She’s wary of getting too close to me. As I am of her.”
He considers my demon wolves, and a smile softens his lips, a rare warmth. “I have a feeling she’ll be willing to do anything to see her pups again.” His focus flickers to me. “All of them.”
My heart is warmer than it has been since we arrived in Mortem. Everything about this world so far has been dangerous and unwanted, but the possibility that my demon wolves could reunite with their mother is an unexpected bright spot in my otherwise bleak future.
By the time we’ve finished exploring Roman’s animal hospital, exhaustion pushes in at the edges of my being, and I find my head hanging a little heavily. Roman’s healing runes worked well, but my body is still recovering.
“Come,” Roman says gruffly, his gaze lingering on what are probably very dark circles below my eyes. “You need to rest before we train tomorrow.”
I don’t argue, stumbling after him, back out through the storage area and into the jungle. Dusk has fallen, the light shifting, touching only the tops of the trees now.
To keep myself awake, I ask Roman about Mortem’s calendar and time system and he confirms that this world runs to a twenty-hour day but with the same three-month seasons.
Ingrid has remained with me, currently purring against my neck, and Roman hasn’t made a move to take her back to her cage.
“She will want to stay with you,” he says softly. “Their family units are unbreakable, and you’re the first attachment she’s formed.”
“What about you?” I ask. “Surely, she’d be attached to you by now?”
“Nobody gets attached to me,” he says.
Before I can object to his claim, he turns the corner ahead of me as we proceed along the pathway surrounded by thorny bramble.
