Page 72 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

It’s a pointless question.

It’s reckless and foolish and dangerous, because thereisno magic left in them. So the answer is easy to give.

“Yes.”

Solemn stillness settles in the hollow silence of my answer. Wolf’s breath brushes at the back of my neck—there’s no space between us now.

I’ve let myself lean back against him, lured dangerously close by the treason of our whispers.

I curse myself silently and pull away.

Cool air rushes in between us, but the warmth in my cheeks lingers. I turn around and step back, but there’s not enough space. My spine finds the tapestry just as Wolf takes a half step forward and pins me in place with eyes so green I swear they could be mage-fire.

“Thank you.”

The words sound foreign from Wolf’s lips. How many times has he said them—and to who?

The brush of his gaze slips along my jaw, my neck, and the silver chain as I move the charm back beneath my tunic.

“For what?”

His gaze softens almost imperceptibly. “For being honest with me.”

There’s so much more I should ask him.

But for once, being near him feels… easy. Safe, even though the rational part of my mind knows he is anything but. Wolf is lethal—in his own words, a knife in the dark. But being here with him, away from the constant danger in the castle, surrounded by ancient stone and tapestries of all the old stories… it calms me.

Hecalms me, in a way I can’t even begin to explain.

He makes me want to believe, and to hope. Because all of this plotting and scheming? This is bigger than politics now. I can feel it in my bones.

And it’s not just for me but for all of us. For the nation we can still be, if we’re willing to stand up and fight. We lose a part of ourselves when we lose the courage to stand up for what we believe in. And whether it takes decades or centuries, the part of our souls that aches for something older than us… that part of us never fully goes away.

That’s what Wolf is fighting for.

And it’s what I’ll fight for too.

Wolf’s mask cracks, a sliver of impulsivewantslipping through the shadows in his eyes—but it must be just a trick of the dim light. There’s no reason for him to look at me like that, not after how much danger he’s put me in. Not with how much he’s held back from me.

He draws just an inch closer and takes in a slow, deep breath.

Old Ones, this is reckless. But I can’t make myself pull away.

Even as his gaze drops to my lips, and his mouth lowers.

Foolish longing crackles through me. Another half inch, and those lips…

Someone coughs.

Wolf curses, head jerking over his shoulder.

I look up to find Talon leaning against the stone archway by the hidden entrance through the kitchen storage. “Am I interrupting?” There’s a wicked light in their brown eyes. “I can come back.”

Apparently, they would make the worst chaperone in the world.

“You’re not interrupting.” Wolf steps back from me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear a hint of a flush heats his cheeks too. He runs a hand over his leathers, tugging at his heavy cloak. “We’re done here.”

My eyes flash to his.