The bond, ever-present and now amplified more than ever, calls for me to find her, to save her. “It seems the Goddess has other plans.”
“Well, it looks like things got a lot more complicated.”
“Looks that way.”
fourteen
Dove
Gilded amber eyes stareback at me. A slight gleam showcases my dishevelled appearance within the depths. His mouth bends towards my ear in a low rumble as he whispers, “I intend to.”
The little hairs all over my body stand on end at his taunting words as his warm breath cleaves my eardrum.
In his firm grip, he can feel exactly how my body is reacting to his calm strength, and it makes me want to knee him in the balls. Unfortunately, I’m still only halfway down his chest, feet barely scrapingthe floor.
Closing my eyes, I sigh, remembering my crime and why I was brought here. The whispers find me once again, and I retreat inward, finding my once-heated coals diminishing.
A huge, calloused hand grips my chin and makes me look up at frowning eyes. “Fight,” the growled whisper finds my ears. I blink multiple times, knowing it comes from the wolf holding me—the wolf who has brought me back here to my execution.
My mouth opens and closes in wonder, but my eyes do not lose their focus as I see the whole universe before me. I consider the possibilities of sitting here in surrender to another person higher up on the food chain than me or fighting for myself for once in my godsdamned life. For the Goddess I spent rotation upon rotation dedicating my voice to. But when it comes to myself, I retreat.
Not any longer. If this wolf wants a fight, I will fight to my last breath.
I will scratch, and I will scream, and I will breathe fire.
Argus wakes and flames the coals within, and I groan, my body instantly feeling relief at my newfound strength.
“Place her in the cage, Gideon,” a loud voice booms over the crowd.
At the last of the barked words, my breath rushes out of me as the wolf slings me back over his shoulder. We move further towards the dais, and once again, my body is whipped around like a rag doll and shoved unceremoniously into something hard and constricting.
The sound of a lock clicking echoes through the hall. That’s when I notice all the whispers have stopped, leaving one voice to drift through the open space.
His voice.
“This servant plotted and killed the high priestess, my mother. She will be brought before my father, the king of Haven, for sentencing at first light,” Prince Castor directs towards the crowd.
Swishing his blue cloak, he walks from the dais.
I look around the walls of the tiny cage, my trembling fingers weaving through the unbreakable metal to grip on as two men in black tunics embossed in the silver wolf sigil of Haven grasp either end of the enclosure, heaving it up into the air.
With barely enough room to move my body around, I try to bunch myself into a corner when ice-blue eyes find mine. “Time to take out the trash,” Castor seethes through the bars, then tells his wardens to take me to the manor dungeon.
I used to think that one turn, those ice-blue eyes would save me. He did save me once from falling as a small girl. When he would pass me in the halls, he gave me a knowing wink as if he remembered a secret only we shared. I foolishly dreamt that one turn he would save me from her—his mother, a woman I both adored and despised.Castor is the future king. Surely, he will protect me. But as he got older, the knowing winks stopped, and compassion was replaced with cold eyes and harsh orders.I should have seen it coming. He is his mother’s son. I am a servant of the realm. Protected by none. Easily replaced.
A slight rumble to my right pulls me out of my sullen reverie as the cage jiggles around me. Dark, golden eyes met mine. This time, the wolf is fully clothed in a black blouse and pants.
As the unnerving beast stares me down, I gain strength, but I do not shrink from him. Instead, I fight, just as he instructed.
I don’t lose eye contact until my coals grow hotter than they have ever been before. Though he is the enemy to me now, all I feel is his warmth.
As we make our way down the temple steps, I see others giving the beast a wide berth, which makes me curious about what they see in him. This massive dyre wolf shifter is the protector of the kings of Haven and killer of the old world before humans graced the place we now claim as our own.
Slowly, my limbs grow cold as the brittle air warns me that we are now outside.
Ahead of our procession is Prince Castor himself, astride a brown stallion, seemingly very smug as the guards ahead shout, “Make way for your prince.”
That’s when I understand where we are. My lungs seize, and my gaze skitters around.Oh, no. No. No. No.
