“I know of no wolves,” she snapped.
“Then why have you crossed into my territory?”
“The boundary fell. I was curious about what it protected.”
I believed her, but after last night, I would not be played for a fool again. “So you trespassed.”
“I did. I… I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Her heart thundered in her chest as her eyes darted around the area, widening when they landed on the gargoyles.
Confident that she was sufficiently terrified, I handed her to Tyrin.
“Take her to the boundary and fly her over the hedge. If she crosses the hedge again, kill her.”
Tyrin tucked her against his chest and took flight with Skarde right behind him, leaving me alone with Theatox, who studied me critically. I could not tell whether she approved of my punishment, and I fought the urge to ask.
“If she returns, I suggest we mount her head on the hedge,” the centaur said after a time.
“We will.”
After my encounter with the harpy, I dined alone before returning to my hoard to find everything put away. The crossbow bolts and rope had been removed, the damage to the walls repaired, and my treasures restored to their rightful resting places.
A thick leather tome balanced atop the nearest pile of coins and jewels like a peace offering. I gingerly picked up the journal and took it into the library to read.
Cracking open the worn leather cover, I discovered a wolf named Fernando Cortado had penned the journal. It was written in Spanish, which was no problem since the gift of languages had been a birthright from my sire. I flipped through the book, noting the sporadic nature of the entries that spanned almost a century. Returning to the beginning, I settled in and started reading.
Fernando made his first journal entry in the spring of 1502, the day his inner alpha decided it could no longer serve under another. He chose to leave his pack rather than fight, and the next several entries detailed his migration from Spain to Peru. Once there, he started his own small pack. The book detailed the bonding process and the telepathic group communication they shared once bound.
The journal confirmed that silver was indeed deadly to wolf shifters, substantiating the decision to imbue Silentium with the metal. My sword’s new edge was a courtesy since I had other means at my disposal. An ancestor had once burned a werewolf to a crisp, forcing the beast into a healing coma before she shifted and beheaded it. Freezing and then beheading my enemies would be every bit as effective as a silver weapon.
I had made it a good quarter of the way through the journal when Catori appeared before my desk, holding a teapot and a cup.
“You should be asleep,” she said, eyeing the journal clutched in my hand.
I glanced out the window, alarmed by the darkness of the sky. Setting the book on my desk, I stood. “Clymene was supposed to notify me when the spell was ready.”
“She is on her way,” Catori said. “This will get you started.”
She lowered the teapot and cup onto my desk before dumping a collection of dried leaves into the cup. Adding hot water from the pot, she set the cup before me.
I studied the brew curiously, giving it a sniff. Notes of lavender, chamomile, and oak, mixed with several unfamiliar scents. “What is this?”
“A draught to aid your rest.”
I eyed the cup. A full night’s sleep would be welcome, but we were still exposed without a ward. “What if we are attacked?”
Catori’s eyes flashed with something akin to indignation. “The rest of us will defend the estate. You must adequately prepare the soil of your mind for Clymene’s spell to take root.” Her gaze met mine, dark, fathomless pupils taking my measure. “Assuming you still wish to perpetuate your dream connection with the thief.”
Apprehension tried to worm its way into my mind, but I plucked it out and confirmed my commitment with a dip of my chin. “She will not live long enough for me to regret it.”
Catori gestured at the cup. “Then drink your tea, hatchling, and prepare yourself.”
DUEL ME
Ziara
Ididn’t know jack about dragons.
