The horsemenare close to Wren.My fingers tore into the flesh of my palms. The familiar, prodding sensation of my talons looking to break free started beneath my skin. I kept them restrained as my gaze settled on Wrenagain.
“There are a couple of interior rooms with no windows,” Vargas said. “But there aren’t enough ways outofthem.”
“This is the best we’re going to get right now,” Imuttered.
Wren’s friend, Jolie, walked over and sat beside her. Jolie drew her legs up and plopped her elbows on her knees as she said something to Wren. Wren turned toward her before focusing on the dwindling line of people receiving their share ofthemeal.
Jolie said something that drew Wren’s gaze sharply back to her. Grabbing her bag, Wren pulled it closer to her and dug into it. All the Wilders had some bag or backpack they carried with them while they traveled. They stashed it somewhere whenever they hunted or fought and as far as I could tell, everything they owned fit intotheirbag.
This treacherous, sparse existence was all Wren had known for most of her life. She knew the peril she lived in, but I wanted better for her for however many days shehadleft.
“She’smortal.”
“She is,”Balesaid.
I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until Bale agreedwithme.
“I think that might be the least of your problems when it comes to her,” Magnusstated.
I hated to admit it, but Magnus was right. Wren’s mortality was a battle for another day. For now, I had to get my Chosen not to want to kick my nuts into my throat most of the time. I’d probably have a better chance of getting a manticore to agree not to eat everything they could skewer with their scorpiontails.
“You claim to know me so well, yet you don’t even know myrealname.”
Her words replayed in my mind, as did everything else she’d revealed to me in the ouroboros’stunnels.
ChapterThirty-Four
Wren
“Did you screwCorson?”
Jolie plopped down on the bleacher beside me, drawing my attention away from the dwindling line of people receivingtheirfood.
“What?” I was proud my voice didn’t come out as a squeak. Had I heard what she said correctly? I knew I had, but I didn’t want to have this conversation with her. I fisted my hands to keep from fidgeting with my hair. I’d left it down to cover Corson’s marks on me, but I should have known Jolie would notice something was off. Maybe, if I played dumb, she would rethink her question or drop thesubject.
“Did you… screw… Corson?” This time, she drew the question out like I had troublehearing.
I hadn’t believed she would let it go, but I found myself feeling defensive as I held Jolie’s lovely green eyes. Everything about Jolie was different than me, from her petite, five-foot-two stature to her ample breasts, and golden brown hair. Jolie had never found sex to be a mechanical event unworthy of her time. No, she actively sought out new partners, and as she put it, she took each of them for a spin before trading him in for the next one that caughthereye.
We had many differences, but Jolie had become one of my closest friends over the five years since she’d first wandered into our camp. It was impossible not to like her. She could ruthlessly cut the head from a demon one second and give her last shirt to someone in the nextsecond.
I refused to look at Corson as I pulled my backpack closer to me. Jolie had kept it safe for me after Corson and I fell in the ouro’s trap. “And ifIdid?”
“I’m asking ifyoudid.”
Her gaze flicked to where my hair fell around my neck. I’d never lied to Jolie; I didn’t lie to anyone. It was completely pointless in this world. However, what had passed between me and Corson had been private and I wasn’t sure I was ready to share it, or the fact that I had given in to my desireforhim.
I should have been strong enough to resist Corson, but I wasn’t ashamed of what had passed between us. Jolie wouldn’t hate me for sleeping with a demon; some of the other Wilders might turn against me because of it, but Joliewouldn’t.
A sick feeling churned in my stomach at the idea of any of the Wilders turning against me because of Corson. I couldn’t stop myself from looking to him, and I wasn’t astonished to find his striking citrine eyes on me. Those eyes were magnificent, he was magnificent, and looking at him made me want him all over again. If I were forced to choose between him and the Wilders, it would tear meintwo.
“Yes,” I said and looked to Jolie again. “I sleptwithhim.”
I braced myself for Jolie’s response. Her lips compressed and something hardened in her eyes. “Working with them is one thing, Wren, taking them into your bed…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head as if she was disappointedwithme.
Resentment twisted in my chest. “You have no right to judge who I do or don’t take into my bed. I’ve never judgedyoufor yourbedmates.”
“I’m not judging you for sleeping with a demon, most people in this room have by now,” she replied with a careless wave of her hand. “Includingme.”
