Page 57 of The Fox Heir

When she looks back toward me, her eyes are dark. “A fox can’t be tamed. It will always be wild at heart. Vicious, sneaky.” Her eyes flicker to Tristan. “Remember that, Wolf.” She walks away, the dancers parting in her wake.

Suddenly, I don’t want to be here anymore. What once felt like a welcome break from the monotony of life at Gwyllion, now feels like a mistake. My unease must show on my face.

Tristan leans in toward my ear. “I want to show you something.” His voice is a low whisper. His warm breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine, but I can’t ignore the spark of distrust that flares inside of me.

I pull back to study his face. “What is it?”

He nods his head toward the darkened shoreline, beyond the glow of the bonfires. “You’ll have to come with me to find out.”

I size him up, then decide I would rather be anywhere but here, at the edge of a party that no one wants me at. I nod.

Without another word, his hand finds mine. The memory of his skin makes my heart flutter in my chest. But if it affects him, he doesn’t show it. Tristan pulls me gently away from the crowd. His grip is steady, but there’s a possessive edge to it, as though letting go isn’t an option. We leave the fire’s warmth, the music fading behind us as the cold night closes in. Overhead, the northern lights twist and pulse in their endless dance.

We walk along the shore until the loudest sounds are the crashing waves and our boots stepping along the sand. It’s a relief to be away from the fray, but a small shadow nips at the back of my mind. I’m alone with the Wolf. And now I know for certain that he hasn’t been entirely truthful with me. I’ll need to tread carefully.

“I suppose I should thank you,” I say, breaking the silence.

He gives me a curious look. “For?”

“Rescuing me.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’re not the sort who needs rescue. I suspect you can handle your own.” His words curl in my chest, unsettling and reassuring all at once.

“Then where are you taking me?”

His face changes to an expression I can’t quite read. “To a place I’ve been meaning to show you.”

I tilt my head, challenging him. “I see you at dawn every morning, yet you couldn’t find the time to take me here in daylight?”

He shrugs, then winces at the pain in his ribs. “This seemed like a good opportunity.”

“You don’t like parties either, I gather.”

The faintest hint of a smile flickers at the edge of his lips, but it’s gone in an instant.

An icy wind sweeps in from the sea, and without thinking, I step a little closer to his side. He doesn’t pull away. Music and laughter drift on the wind, but it’s distant now, like a dream we’ve left behind. The cold gnaws at my fingertips, but I barely notice, not when Tristan’s hand is still wrapped around mine.

Old gods help me, because beneath the light of the moon and the shimmer of the northern sky, the world feels a little less cold. Even if deception and secrets still nip at the back of my mind, refusing to be forgotten.

Chapter 19

We walk in silence. The rhythm of our footsteps blends with the rush of the waves over the ice-crusted sand. Peppered across the shore, weather-beaten rocks glisten with frost. Without a word, Tristan leads me toward a narrow opening hidden between two boulders that must’ve been tossed against the cliff in a long-ago storm. I hesitate on the moonlit shore for a long moment. Tristan watches me, waiting to see if I’ll decide to follow.

I do.

The cave is dark. Tristan disappears for a moment before a flame ignites, briefly blinding me. He holds out a lantern that was stashed behind a large rock.

“I keep candles and a striker here.”

So, this is a place he comes to often. I store this information for future use. As he leads me deeper into the cave, my eyes flicker back toward the exit. I can just make out the moonlit waves that crash against the shore. He pauses and holds out his hand again. I take it, following the Wolf into the darkness.

The air is damp with the scent of the sea. The roar of the water fades to a murmur behind us as it’s swallowed by thick cliff walls. My boots scrape against the uneven ground, and I stumble on a loose rock.

“Careful.” Tristan’s hand tightens around mine.

My heart thuds against my ribs. The walls of the cave glisten where beads of moisture cling to the jagged edges. Streaks of salt and minerals gleam like veins beneath the cliff overhead.

We move carefully, our footsteps echoing against the stone. Pools of seawater lie eerily still in the hollows of the floor. They reflect the golden glow of our candle flame with such precision, it feels like looking into a dark mirror. The deeper we walk into the cave, the quieter it becomes. Gradually, only the distant drip of water remains, falling like a heartbeat in the dark.