“Good. I…” I think of what Della said. “I’ll offer you a deal. I know your wish is to kill me, kill us all, but you’re far from home. Dark fae aren’t welcome here, and with good reason. You’re a force of nature, dangerous for sure, but if you think about it, coming with us on this journey is your best bet to get back home. I sure as hell don’t want you along and much less later on, when I reach my future husband’s home.”
He gives a slow blink. “Husband?” he rasps, the sound muted behind the muzzle.
He can speak. I hate how startled I am by the sound of his voice, this sign of intelligence. Of course he can speak. My werewolf captors spoke too. Mocked me. Insulted me. Berated me.
Focus,I tell myself.
“So here is the deal,” I say out loud. “You play your role. Follow me around. Play at being my bodyguard. To clarify, I’m not untying your wrists or taking off the muzzle and gloves. Unless it is to eat and drink. Then the muzzle will come off temporarily. Nod if you agree.”
He produces a strangled sound. Surely he’s not laughing? But maybe he is.
After all, this is a ridiculous proposal.
Laughable, even.
Who has ever sat down with a wolf to talk and reach an arrangement? “Don’t eat me, wolf, and I promise to take off your chain?”He’s not one of the baying hounds running with the hunters, or the pampered poodles lazing about in ladies’ laps.
But… maybe Della was right, because no, he’s not a dog, he’s a man, a fae, cunning and devious like all of his kind, because he nods again.
“Youagree?” I blurt out, unable to keep the incredulity from my voice.
“I agree. Did you expect another outcome?”
That raspy, deep voice is raising goosebumps all over my skin. It’s so resonant and dark, pleasant like the trickle of pine resin, bitter and sweet.
Shaking myself, I fist my hands in the folds of my dress. “I…”
“Did you expect me to jump on you and rip you apart?” He speaks low, every word a breath. “Feast on your entrails?”
Shit.My stomach rebels, and I turn away as memories flood my mind.
“Of course she did,” Della snarls, “what did you think? Your kind almost killed her once. You should be thankful she’s merciful, or you’d be dead already, not walking about pretending to be her protector.”
I don’t hear anything else as I hurry back into my room to heave into the clean chamber pot until my stomach is empty.
Well, that went swimmingly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ROSAMUND
It looks like we have a deal, the beast and I. Pretending I didn’t lose my self-control and puked out my guts, I straighten my clothes, tuck a few loose strands of hair behind my ears, and make as dignified an exit from my room as one can make under such circumstances.
Della, Kier, and Bert are still standing there.
And so is the wolfman.
Looming over the two men, even taller, even stronger than them. Will it ever stop startling me when I see him there, my nightmare come back to life?
A beautiful nightmare, I have to admit, even with the muzzle and the blood smeared all over him, his broad shoulders slightly hunched. His shape is just so pleasing. So attractive. There’s something about the hint of a square jaw and the line of those straight, thick brows, the strength in the way he holds himself, and the way his broad chest dips into narrow hips and long legs that…
“My lady,” Kier says, and it snaps me out of my daze. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Perfectly fine,” I assure him, throwing my shoulders back. “All set, then?”
The leash is back on the wolfman’s collar, and Bert passes me the end of it without a word. I clutch the leather strap in my hand, swallowing down more bile.
“Wolfman,” I say.
