Page 153 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

“No,” he rasps out.

It takes me a second to understand.

When I do, my heart shatters all over again.

He can’t bear to be touched now.

Not with the memories of what he’s endured so close to the surface.

How can I possibly hold two truths in my heart at once? The horror of what Cash did—and the bitter reality that he’s our only option for stability and keeping Cymrea from annexing us while we fight for magic.

Old Ones, how does Wolf of all people do it each day?

My weapons lie with my filthy, bloodstained clothes in a heap on the floor. I reach for the sheaths, strapping them on to me and rummaging in the pockets, using the opportunity to wipe a hand across my cheeks. The vial I slipped into my pocket from theHigh King’s chambers is still there, the delicate slivers of silverish shards still inside.

I reach across the bed and place the vial at the foot of it, within his reach.

“Cinnabar,” I say softly. “An ore that melts down to mercury, if you know how to handle it. It causes insanity. I only know one person who stocks it, and I think we both know who buys it from her.”

Keeva always said the Lady of Shadows pays triple what any poison is worth. It’s the reason she sells to a woman she hates.

Wolf’s eyes darken with recognition on the silver shards.

“Cash might not have recognized the poison, but he knew itwaspoison. And he let me kill his father anyway, rather than hope he might recover with an antidote.”

My voice isn’t shaking anymore, but Wolf’s gaze is still pulled tight.

“None of that changes what he did. I won’t ever trust him. Not with you, Maeve.” Pain flares in his gaze, and he strides across the distance between us. Both hands find my elbows, pulling me against him, and he seems to rush into his next words without thinking. “Not after betrayal like that. I thought if anyone would understand, it’d be—”

He takes a sharp breath.

The torment in his eyes vanishes as he snaps them shut, wincing.

My head swims. “You thought it’d beme?”

“Fuck.” Both hands knot behind his head, then rake through his hair. It stands wildly up on end, the dark strands still mussed from what we just did. His eyes search mine, confusion flaring there. “You don’t know. Finn never told you?”

My stomach drops. “Told me what?”

Wolf reaches for me, but this time, I’m the one who pulls away. I step back from him until my spine hits the wall beside the window, streaked with sharp lines of rain.

He keeps pace with me but leaves the final inches empty between us.

His hands twitch, as if he fights the urge to reach for me. He clenches them at his sides instead. “Your father’s the one who betrayed your mother.”

I shake my head, ringing rising in my ears. “He wouldnever. He was devastated, after she…” The words catch in my throat. “My father can’t even look at me, because…”

Horror shifts my world on its axis.

He can’t look at me because I look almost exactly likeher.

Everyone always said so.

My knees buckle. I catch myself—or Wolf catches me. I can’t tell, because all I can see is my father’s face every time he’s looked at me since my mother’s execution. The wrenching pain, the twist of grief.

Old Ones—was it the twist of guilt?

“No.” Every instinct in me fights to reject Wolf’s words. Regret turns Wolf’s eyes dark. “I told you we have friends in the gardai. Right after the uprising, Fang got copies of the arrest warrants for every mage and so-called traitor who was executed. The dates. Who reported each person.” He hesitates, thumb coming up to brush along my jaw as if he thinks it might be the last time. “Remaining family.”