Goosebumps run along my arms. For some reason, I yank the blankets up to my neck, even though I’m not naked beneath—thank the True for that. “It’s not what it looks like!” I squeal, glancing down at Pala’s dainty form. “N-Nothing happened!”
“I know.”
I slant my head. “You do?”
“We would have heard it down the hall, I’m sure, given what we know the girl is capable of.”
My cheeks flush pink. “I’ve, uh, never been that way with Palacia. Far as I know, she’s always been interested in men.”
Skar lets out a sigh as he stands upright from the doorway. “You don’t have to explain yourself, little temptress. There’s another way I know there was no frolicking in here.”
“How?”
“The smell. I scent your vague arousal . . . but not the aftermath.”
His words make me blush even harder, if that’s possible. Gently, I twist out from under Palacia’s possessive arm and scoot out of bed. I join Skar at the door. Together, we stare at the human-shaped lump.
“She’ll wake ravenous,” Skar explains. “In more ways than one.”
His innuendo is well-noted. “I don’t plan to be here when that happens.”
Skar sniffs the air. His shoulder-length auburn hair, so close to my cheek, seems especially lustrous and full today.
“What are you smelling?” I ask.
“You. You’ve been sweating. Bad dreams again?”
I nod. “I’ll bathe.”
“Good. You’re ripe, love.”
I bite my lower lip and shake my head. “Stop looking at me like that. And don’t askhowyou’re looking at me—you know how. Like your eyes can drill through me.”
“After an evening with your interfolk friend here, I don’t even want to know what twisted things are on your mind.”
“Good, because I’m not going to tell you,” I say, lifting my chin.
His eyes smolder. He leans forward and I close my eyes, ready for him to kiss me.
He simply pecks me on the forehead, and my eyes shoot open, affronted that I don’t get to feel his lips on mine.Teasing me, like I so often do to him.
“Bathe,” he says, turning to leave the room, “and then join us in the conference room. It’s time we figure out what’s going on in the Firehold.”
“It’s been a week,” Vallan grumbles from where he sits on the table. He leans on his chin, bored. “And no word.”
“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Skar scolds him. “Now be quiet and let the cub work.”
Garroway sits on the floor, cross-legged, eyes closed. Skartovius stands over him, putting a palm on his bald pate, the spindly fingers draping over every direction of his nicely shaped skull.
I can’t help but imagine an image of those severed heads around Cyprilis’ room. The gifts of her attackers, turned into trophies for her to parade around and play a grotesque game of dolls with.I can’t wait until my mind is my own.Pleasetell me you and Old Endolf have had a breakthrough, Mother!
While Garro gets lost in his beast-charming, trying to find a rodent to grab onto with his mind, I look across the table at Vallan. “I hear Nuhav has gotten worse.”
He strokes his beard. “Who told you that?”
“No one. The smoke rising from the city up the mountainside told me.”
The giant grunts. “Yes. We have our diversion. The Five Ministries are beginning to make moves.”
