Wen was silent, considering. Then she nodded slowly. “Fine. Send whoever you need to send.”
“Should we check on him?” I suggested, desperate for any excuse to spend time with her, even walking down corridors in silence. “Make sure he is alright?”
“He’s with your mother. He’s fine.”
“Still. I would like to see him. For him to see us together.”
She sighed, but stood. “Fine.”
We walked through the castle without speaking. Not the comfortable silence we used to share, where no words were needed. I wanted to reach for her hand. Touch her back. Any of the casual intimacy we’d built over five years together. But she would not welcome it.
We reached Killian’s room, where he was supposed to be with my mother. It was empty.
“He is not here,” I said.
“Sorcha probably took him outside. He’s been cooped up too much lately.”
I moved to the window, scanning the gardens below out of habit. Extra guards were visible at every entrance, exactly where they should be.
“There,” I said, pointing. “In the gardens.”
Wen joined me at the window. For a moment, we stood close enough that I could smell her. Honey and books and home. Then she stepped away.
“I see them,” she said.
Sorcha was walking slowly through the rose garden, Killian running ahead of her, chasing butterflies. He looked happy.
Then I saw them.
Three wolves, unfamiliar, creeping through the hedges. Moving with predatory intent toward my mother and son. How…?
“Wait,” I said, my entire body going rigid. “Those wolves...”
“What wolves?” Wen leaned closer to the window. “Oh god. Those aren’t our guards.”
“Assassins.”
We moved at the same time.
“Stay!” I roared as my body began to shift.
“Fuck that,” she grunted as she sprinted for the door, the fastest route down. I did not have time for stairs.
My body exploded into wolf form mid-stride, clothes tearing away. I gathered my legs beneath me and launched straight through the window.
Glass shattered everywhere, glittering in the sunlight like deadly rain. The fall was stomach-dropping, one floor down, and I had maybe a second to adjust my angle before I hit the ground.
Wrong angle.
My back left leg snapped on impact, bone cracking. The pain was white-hot, immediate.
I ignored it. Killian. Had to get to Killian.
How the fuck had those assassins sneaked in through all the guards I had posted everywhere? I had no fucking idea. They must’ve had help. I ran on three legs toward the garden, the shattered limb dragging behind me. Every step was agony. Every step brought me closer to my son. This was not how I’d imagined my morning going, but then again, nothing in my life went according to plan anymore.
Torin was already there, good man, his sword drawn and engaging the first intruder. Metal rang against claws as they fought.
I launched myself at the second assassin, all teeth and fury. My jaws closed around his arm. He screamed. I did not let go. Clearly he had not expected a three-legged wolf to be this motivated.
