He just smirked. “Haven’t you ever gotten a gift before?”
I rolled my eyes, but held out my hand. He dropped the shell into my palm. When it landed, dark magick buzzed against my skin.
“I know just who to give this to,” I told him, trying not to seem too grateful.
While I was tucking the shell inside my pocket, he picked up the two opaline stones that were sitting on the bed. “One more thing. You wanted to know if your wolves had names. Didn’t you?”
Had he been listening to me? Outside the door, or in my head, it didn’t matter. It was violating.
He whistled to the wolves, then clapped. They didn’t come out from under the bed. “Leave them alone.”
Gorrath flashed a too-wide smile, then tossed the two necklaces into my lap. “Put these moonstones on them, and they’ll be able to tell you exactly who they are.”
“What do you mean?”
“A moonstone is the only thing that allows a werewolf to control their transformation. You’ll see what I mean.”
I wanted to argue with him, but I was suddenly too dizzy to talk. The back of my head was throbbing in pain. When I touched it, my hand came away red.
Gorrath backed up a pace, then another, inching towardthe door. “I’ll come back for another visit when they’ve healed that knock on your head, and he’s looking more alive.” He cast a long look at Bastien, the grin slipping from his face. “We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Then he was out of the room, gone like a shadow. I leaned against Bastien and clutched his bicep just to hold something solid and real. He’d been so confident that Gorrath couldn’t escape the Underworld. Just as I’d been so confident that the wolves under our bed were familiars.
Chapter 27
Malchance
TYSON
One of Chastity’s healers scurried past him, and Tyson closed the door to his Uncle’s room as gently as he could. “They’re both asleep,” he told his cousin.
Natalia rounded on Sir Gavin. “Why hasn’t anyone been guarding His Grace’s door? This is a gross oversight.”
“My apologies, my lady. It will not happen again.”
“If His Grace wakes up, I am to be notified immediately. And do not let anyone in. Witch or demon or goddess herself. Do you understand?”
The guards nodded, then stationed themselves outside the door.
Natalia strode down the narrow stone corridor, hips swaying, hands clenched into fists. Tyson raced to catch up with her. “Where are you going?”
“To fetch my sanguine partner. If our uncle refuses to eat, then I’m going to force-feed him.”
“He’ll be livid.”
“I don’t care.”
She didn’t care? Had she met our uncle? “When Uncle Bastien gets angry at you, you'd better say I had no part in this.”
Natalia grabbed the front of Tyson’s shirt and bared her fangs. “This is why you shouldn’t be Bastien’s heir. You’re not willing to make the hard choices necessary for command.” She shoved him against the wall. “It doesn’t matter if someone is angry at you. That’s a child’s worry. What matters is that you did what was best for your people.”
She released him, and Tyson tried to put his mask back on. Willing the pieces of his cracked façade to snap back into place. However, when he tried to smirk and brush off Natalia’s words, the jagged pieces didn’t fit as well as they had before.
“Do you want my help?” he called after her.
She offered him a one-fingered gesture as she continued down the corridor.
Tyson leaned the back of his head against the wall and tried to silence the voices in his head that were screaming at him. Shouting at him with his uncle’s disapproving sneer. His father’s wrath. His mother’s insistence that he was something he was not.
