Page 130 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

Let me in.

His voice scrapes, and he relents. “For a time.”

It’s just three words. But I can see the conflict raging in him. How much it cost to offer them to me.

And I know it’s stupid—but I let myself hope that there’s a path where we can work together, where we can trust each other.

Where we can do more than just survive.

Where we canrise, together.

Wolf draws in a breath, eyes drinking me in. He closes them softly, just for a heartbeat, as if lost in the past. “You smell of rock rose and the sea.”

Warmth builds beneath my skin at the nearness of him. “Is that bad?”

Longing and the pull of memories shadow his eyes. “No,” he says, resolute. “Just reminds me of the cliffs where I was a boy. Rock rose grew wild there. A sea of yellow, only blooming after the storms passed through.”

I should thank him—for the dress, for the letter, for bringing the sword. Does he expect me to use it on the High King tonight? But all that comes out is “How is she?”

Wolf doesn’t pretend not to know who I mean.

“She’s… worried.” That muscle where his sharp cheekbonemeets his jaw ticks. Bonfires turn the room around us to a blur of shimmering air and shadows, as if there’s no one left here but us.

Somehow, I have no trouble picturing Finn handing Wolf his ass. The mental image draws a laugh that I stifle against his shoulder.

His whole body tenses like he’s fighting himself not to lean into me.

Like he’s… bracing.

“I hope she let you know it.” I risk a glance up at him.

The shift brings his cheek close enough to brush against mine.

A faint curve cracks across his mouth. The hand holding mine comes up to brush it against the stubble of his jaw, and I feel the faint heat of a blooming bruise. “She mostdefinitelydid.”

Letting my thumb brush over the heated spot is so easy. Natural, even.

He lets me, only for a second, before pulling back.“Maeve.”

My name is a low warning in his voice. A reminder of the danger all around us.

Even though I know better, the closeness of him eases the gnawing loneliness inside me.

The mask and the imminent threat of death as the Test of Strength looms tomorrow make me bold. “Tell me this is all in my head.”

Beneath the mask, Wolf’s jaw tenses. His eyes have dark circles beneath them again, just barely visible where the cutouts of the mask dip and swirl.

“I can’t,” he says softly, hand trailing lower at my waist. “But that doesn’t make it right.”

“Fuck what’s right.”

If these might be my final hours, Old Ones—I want to go down burning.

I want him to strike the match.

“Maeve,” he says again, the sound of my name rougher, like it’s been torn from his lips. “Being with me… you have no idea how risky it is. I’ve put you in enough danger. Let me do this one thing to not put you in any more.”

“So why come here?” We keep pace with the music as it slows, dipping into a seductive, darker melody. “You know the gardai are hunting you, right?”