Page 10 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

Keeva’s shoulders stiffen. “I overheard a few of the gardai in the merchant quarter.”

“Wait.” I pull Keeva to a stop. Finn was in the merchant quarter just before all of this too. “Were you together?”

“Maeve.”Finn’s voice takes on a warning tone I’ve never heard before—not from her.

I flinch back, hurt slivering between my ribs as I understand.

My sister doesn’t trust me—and I have no idea what I’ve done to deserve that.

I pull the cloak more tightly around me and tug the hood up over my head. It hides my stinging eyes.

Keeva shifts uneasily and elbows Finn.

My sister’s face darkens as she glances sideways at me, but she only leads us into the tangle of streets twining behind the trading post, away from the blood-soaked market and the bodies lying in the mud.

“Think they’ll cancel the Assay?” Keeva breaks the tense silence.

Finn shakes her head. “Not a chance. The Bloody Prince is twenty-one. Eireann’s constitution says the heir has to marry at that age or lose their claim to the throne. Not to mention, the High Queen probably sees this as the perfect timing to get a future queen who’s friendly to the idea of Cymrean annexation lined up for the throne.”

My sister stumbles, tripping over nothing but her own feet, and lands hard on both knees.

“Finn!” I reach out for her, but she brushes me off.

“I’m fine,” she says, and a fresh sliver of hurt needles through me.

“You’re not.” I turn to Keeva. “She’s hurt. It’s from something on her side. She keeps trying to hide it. I swear, she never got hit while we were running from the gardai, so I don’t know…”

Keeva’s eyes harden. She kneels at Finn’s side and helps her back up. “You know better than to hide injuries by now. Out with it.”

In all the years they’ve been together, I’ve never seen my sister refuse Keeva. Not when Keeva wanted the last piece of crusty bread, or when she asked us to stay far, far away from the market when the Lady of Shadows might make a visit, or when she needed help tallying up taxes from her stall of poisons.

But Finn meets Keeva’s stubborn eyes now, defiance flashing bright and hard along with something softer—something pleading.

Keeva just nods, tight and quick.

I bite my tongue and don’t say a word as we loop our arms around Finn’s waist. By the time we reach our little lane an hour later, all three of us are drenched from the thickening tingle of the silver mist.

Secrets are your greatest shield.

Not just for you but for the ones you love too. That’s what our mother always said.

If my sister is keeping secrets from me, there’s only one reason. She must think whatever she knows could hurt me, too.

One look at her is all it takes for my heart to crack.

Finn is as pale as moonlight. Auburn hair sticks to her cheeks as she stumbles through the door to our shack. Keeva offers a hand to help Finn over to her worn bed in the far corner, but my sister just shakes her head slowly, collapsing in the nearest chair with a low groan.

Our father lumbers out from the back room, flinching when he sees me, his eyes darkening. “Did you get the fish? I ask you to do one thing, and—”

Finn cuts him off with a cough. “My fault. Gardai raided the market. I had to get Maeve out of there.”

The lie rolls off her tongue. That wasn’t just araid, and we both know it.

I feel our father’s eyes hover on me, but he says nothing—no sound of agreement, not a hint of a care for the heaps of grime and blood sticking to my cloak. Just like he always looks at me, with a dark flash of pain.

I don’t react, not anymore. I’ve had five years to accept that just the sight of me hurts him now.

Everyone always said I was the spitting image of my mother, from my chestnut hair to the lone dimple in my right cheek to my gray eyes.