Page 93 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

The prince lets out a heavy breath. “I did.”

“Will you let us walk out of here?”

His hands clench into fists, but the resignation in his eyes leaves no doubt. Relief floods through me, and he nods toward the door. “But you can’t go that way.”

“How else—?”

Cashel risks a wary look at Wolf. “You remember the way?”

Wolf’s jaw pulls taut in a grimace, and he stalks over to the curtains where I found him waiting. “How do you think I got here?” He pulls them back and presses on the carved wooden ledge trimming the windowsill. There’s a faint click, and the wall indents.

My jaw drops.

Wolf pushes the marble—fake marble, I realize, following him through—and leads me into a shadowed tunnel behind the walls.Before he presses it shut behind us, he turns back over his shoulder to his cousin. His entire body tenses, like it takes everything he has left to keep his voice level. “Why are you letting us go?”

A faint laugh sounds. “You rebels want my father dead, right? And let me guess—me on his throne?” The knowing look Cashel aims at Wolf is cold, determined.

Wolf doesn’t answer, but the prince nods as he inches the false door shut behind us, and murmurs, “Good. So do I.”

Inside the dark tunnel, there’s no break in the tension.

It haunts the mere inches between us as Wolf leads me deeper inside, carving off in dark paths that he navigates as if he’s been here a hundred times before.

Raw hurt clings to him like smoke.

Every step echoes in the quiet.

Without the rush of conflict, the battling between him and Cashel, it doesn’t take my body long to remember there’s still poison lingering in my veins.

My limbs burn, pain biting like thorns over my hands and wrists. My skin feels too tight, as if it’s been stretched to the point of snapping across my charred bones.

I bite down on the inside of my cheek, fighting the sudden rush of dizziness.

Nerve damage,Cash said.

Old Ones, I need it to fade. I can’t fight like this, can’t wield a sword or a blade when just breathing hurts this badly. Any dulling relief that the antidote might’ve been offering seems to be fading.

Wolf slows his pace, shooting glances at me back over his shoulder but never reaching out for me.

Hurt wedges between my ribs, uncomfortably close to my heart.

An even darker ripple of pain and raw grief pulses off him too.

All the words that I could use to try to bridge the gap between us wither and die in my throat. This is why getting information out of Wolf about their plan for me has felt like trying to extract blood from a stone.

He put his trust in someone once before.

And Old Ones, it cost himeverything.

Losing my mother… my throat clenches so hard, it draws a sting from my eyes. Losing her was the worst thing I’ve ever gone through. Nothing, I was sure, could ever be worse.

But losing my entire family and knowing I was the reason for their execution?

I don’t know how I could’ve kept on breathing each day.

Wolf, though…

I find the faint outline of his form in the dark, and feel the vise grip around my chest ease slightly. It’s just enough for me to draw in a tight, painful breath as my head spins, exhaustion and pain weighing me down like an anchor.