Page 152 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

Saraid will do the job well.

Wolf strokes a thumb along the scar down my ribs. “You killed a king tonight. Consider our bargain fulfilled. If you want to walk away, this is your chance. But…” Wolf hesitates, and I feel the calluses of his palm against my hip. “I asked you once what you would do if you knew the truth.”

“That’s definitelynothow you asked, but go on.”

Wolf’s mouth finds mine, nipping at my lower lip again, stealing every retort I could throw at him. “Stay, Maeve,” he whispers. “Stay, and fight with me for our home.”

I swallow, and those green eyes shine. “And if I say yes?”

A wicked smile toys at the edges of his lips. “Then we get to cause some chaos,” he promises. “We do whatever it takes to save the magic left in the Wells and bring the Martyr…” Wolf punctuates the words with a kiss. “And all the mages…” His lips move down my neck, teasing a path from below my ear. “And magic back to the people of this isle.”

Wolf braces his weight on his forearms, shifting so his body covers mine again. Being this close to him chases away every doubt, every fear, leaving nothing but relief in its wake. He lowers his mouth, hovering barely above mine, testing me.

Teasingme.

His teeth find the soft edges of my ear. “Did you have any trouble getting to the king?”

“Some.” The word comes out breathy. “But Cash…”

Wolf tenses.

Shit.

Wolf’s eyes bore into mine. “Cash?”

His entire frame shifts, drawing back to put distance between all the places where our bodies connect. “What was he doing with you? I thought Talon—”

Guilt twists in my stomach. Not because I did anything wrong, but because I know the words he’s probing for will only hurt him more.

I close my eyes and whisper, “The gardai took me right after you left the ball. I went to find Talon, but they got to me first. And after I got down the tower, after the attack had started… there were so many gardai everywhere. Cash was my chance to get us in and out without anyone suspecting a thing, and he did.”

Hurt slivers through his gaze, and every one of his shields slams back up.

After everything it’s taken for Wolf and me to lower all the walls between us, seeing them go back up in an instant feels like a blow.

“It was the only way,” I say softly, and wince when Wolf flinches at my words. The memories that haunt him seem to weigh even heavier than usual on his shoulders.

Wolf pulls back, putting the width of the bed between us. “That’s almost exactly whathesaid to me, once.” His voice lowers, rough with wrestling pain as he reaches for his leathers and yanks them on. His black shirt follows, hiding the evidence of everything that’s been done to him, and my stomach clenches.

I slide out of his bed quietly, picking up my scattered clothes from the floor. The ones I stole from his drawer. The ones that smell just like him.

Leather and smoke and sweet sage swim around me as I yank the too-big shirt back over my head, fumbling with the laces at the collar. The leathers, damn them, stick to my sweat-slick skin, and I curse, pulling them over my hips.

My eyes burn when I look at him again. “I don’t understand, Wolf. You heard him. He wanted to help us. He planted the magic just like we asked. And you all clearly trust him enough to think he’d be a better king than his father.”

“That doesn’t mean I trust him withyou!”

Wolf’s shout rings in the gold-tinged air, and the hurt in his eyes—it steals my breath.

“You don’t understand what it was like.” He pulls a hand across his face. “Did you ever wonder why nobles don’t die onthe Black Quay with everyone else?” His words falter, but he sees the way I flinch and keeps pushing. “There’s nothing left to put up there after the Lady of Shadows finishes with us.” The pain in his eyes turns ravaged. Tortured. “Imagine watching that happen, Maeve. Then imagine those same instruments being turned on you.”

Tears in my eyes spill over.

Horror turns my blood to ice. I reach out for him, not thinking, just wanting to touch him.

“Wolf.”My voice is a shattered wisp of itself.

His eyes are near wild with pain, and he wrenches back from my touch. The green there burns too bright, the rims too red, and one hand goes to the scar along his jaw. The other comes out, a buffer between him and me.