Page 118 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

Me? I’d get a one-way trip.

Fear licks through my veins, cold and quick. I stand up straighter, press my chest out against the low cut of my dress, and feel the High Queen’s icy eyes narrow on me in loathing.

Good.

Even in the dense crowd, Oona is easy to spot. Her raven hair shines; black diamonds glimmer at her throat. She approaches from my right side, and I feel Talon shift their stance subtly enough that I know they’re prepared for an attack. But she moves like silk, a cruel smile curving her painted lips.

My heartbeat is thunder.

Every eye in the room watches her approach, then slides from Oona to me as I force my mouth into a wide grin. I laugh as if this is the mostwondrousnight I’ve ever seen.

The nobles’ glances slide to me again and again, whispering and sharp with judgment. I feel their eyes roam down the deep neck of my gown, over my hair, left deliberately long and unbraided so it flows over my shoulders.

I keep a wide grin plastered to my mouth and let them judge me.

Because as they whisper and stare at me, Cash leans toward Oona, close enough for his hands to brush the heavy folds of her skirts. He whispers something in her ear that makes her eyes dart to me, and her dark red lips curve.

“Deal,” she purrs back to him.

He lingers for just a moment too long, staying close, when propriety would say he should pull back. And I hear the whispers start from the nobles at my other side.

Cash’s eyes are storm clouds when he pulls back.

The set of his jaw is tight, and his hand slides back into his own pocket in a blink as he nods to Oona and tugs me back through the crowd.

I fight to keep my hands steady, to avoid reaching for the soothing outline of the knives hidden beneath my skirts.

“Did you do it?” The hitch of my voice betrays the hammering fear coursing through me, and Cash’s eyes darken on mine. His gaze flickers to the doors, just as I hear it.

Boots.

Boots, and the clang of metal.

Cash’s eyes dart back to mine.

Something is wrong.

What did he do?

“No,” he grits out, and something haunting stalks across his stare. “I’m sorry, Maeve.”

“Sorry?” Panic is acid in my mouth. I whirl on him, eyes flying for Talon as the shadows of the gardai sharpen across the doors swinging open into the hall. “Sorry for what?”

His hand finds the curve of my back. Regret tugs at his face, and Cash’s eyes snap to the dais, where the High Queen stands, the Lady of Shadows whispering in her ear.

Terror floods the marrow of my bones as she stands and orders—

“Seize them.”

I was wrong.

So terribly, terribly wrong.

The gardai rush through the crowd, shoving and spilling cups of wine all over the floor in splashes as dark as pools of blood. Talon grabs for me with one arm, their other hand moving in a bright flash for the hilt of the short sword at their side, about to draw it out.

“Don’t.”I grip their arms as tight as I can.

If Talon fights back, their cover as a spy is blown.