Page 58 of Throne of the Wolf Queen

CHAPTER 22

MATTHIAS

You forget, Seth, the boy king lived under my roof for six years. He’s in possession of a rather impressive rebellious streak and an overwhelming desire to right the injustices of the world. It’s merely a matter of sitting back and waiting for him to fuck up and connect the tattered threads of his throne to the rebels as Raul did. And then, Seth, then we finally swoop in, dissolve the Elmswood line from existence and share Asmar’s spoils.

​— ​LETTER FROM KING ROMERO IV TO KING SETH OF ITORAS

My soul raged as Sorrow swept past. That face, the one I defied a God for, refused to turn my way. Her wolf set his amber gaze on me, a myriad of warnings flashing through them as I bucked feebly against the rebels holding me back. That man, broad, with a mess of wild hair – why had she followed him? The hands holding me back loosened and I dragged myself free, gripping my head.

With my eyes scrunched, I forced myself to take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I didn’t need to wonder what was happening to me. The knowledge settled like silt in my stomach. The fucking tattoo was not only robbing me of my life, but stealing my sanity, and worse, I didn’t know if I was drawn towards my Sorrow because of our love or my unwilling vow to the empress. My grip on my emotions had always been tenuous, and my anger was never far away when it came to someone harming Sorrow, but the thoughts raging through my mind? That wasn’t me. The way I’d stared at Raine as the fog approached, hungrily contemplating their death. And the man? Sorrow’s… guard? Companion? I hadn’t given her a moment to speak before a tsunami of jealousy flooded everything I was.

I raised my head, closed my eyes tighter to halt the pain burrowing any deeper. Raine nudged my shoulder. Cracking my eyes open I met their scowl.

‘The fuck?’ they signed, and a half-laugh hung in my throat.

I placed my hand on the base of my back before signing. ‘It’s poisoning me. I need to find her. Explain.’

‘Can I trust you?’

And there it was. The anger, burning harshly in my chest. I waited a few heartbeats before I signed my answer.

‘My wife will always be safe with me.’ Even as I signed the words, I doubted my own heart. I stood, my body following Sorrow as though she were a ruby herself.

Raine signed for Sacha. ‘It’s not her I worry for. If you attack any more of her companions, you put our alliance with Asmar at risk.’ They laughed at my scowl. ‘Sacha will aid you. Bring you back here so we can discuss our next steps.’

I nodded, my jaw tight as I stumbled from the room, past the stench of cigarillos with Sacha on my heels and desperation in my soul.

The moment I’d forced my way through the door of the debating chamber, as I heard her voice on the other side, I almost wept with relief. She lived, breathed. And somehow, she was here. I swallowed deeply, suddenly frozen. Her long hair was loosely braided, hanging to those delicious hips. The wolf turned, sniffed the air before growling his warning. Did her oversized rug smell the decay lingering in my soul? Sorrow’s head turned a fraction, and the amber light of the weak lamp spilled across her profile and stole what little breath remained in my lungs. Gods, I loved her.

The room was captivated. She swayed opinions as her deceptively sweet tone carried over the chamber, and I couldn’t hold back the force of my heart bursting. Even as her words damned me. My crown.

‘So that’s it,’ she’d said, her shoulders sagging, and my heart twisted. I knew what thoughts flew through her mind. Sorrow wouldn’t be able to make out their expressions. The awe, the respect, the conviction on the faces of those ensnared by the wonder that was my wife. She couldn’t be certain her words weren’t wasted, but still she spoke. Spoke as though the fate of the world was her burden alone.

‘We’re already free of Romero. Once we’re free of her, we can shape a new world. A fairer one. But I can’t say if we’ll ever get there unless we unite. So, Raine… hope.’

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. Oh Sorrow. Why would you ally us with rebels? There’d be another way. There’s always another way.

The pain of her loss had been a constant burn. A torture worse than the flames of Vyrus only doused when I finally held her once more. Quite simply, it was the purest moment of my life. Then I destroyed it. I knew Sorrow’s love for me would never send her to seek solace with another. But still, something in that man’s eyes, the way she’d said she needed him. I clenched my fists. I had to keep my temper in check. Apologise, just hold her again and never let go. Even Vyrus wouldn’t be able tear her from my arms when I found her.

But the empress? Could she be the tainted sword severing us for all eternity?

When we were children, we never needed to know where the other was. The craving to be near her would flow through my veins and, within moments, she’d be there. The bewitching flame forever drawing my fragile moth. If I told her she was my soul mate, that Evella created us simply for the other to exist, she’d scoff, probably curse loudly and roll those beautiful eyes of hers. But as I gently prised open a half-closed door to a near-empty room, and found her leaning over a windowsill, I knew it was true.

I couldn’t bear the thought that the empress’s command had damned us. That my need for Sorrow was corrupted. The innocence of our love no more than ash in a pyre.

She exhaled a shaky breath, refusing to turn. Tears burned hot and fierce behind my eyes. What I wouldn’t do to take away the pain I’d caused her.

‘Sorrow?’

Her breath misted against the window; she swiped it away, as though she’d been scouring the dark courtyard beyond.

Rubbing my knuckles, I hovered in the doorway, waited for an answer she wasn’t willing to provide.

‘Sorrow, I’m so⁠—’

‘Do you know?’ A sword sliced into my guts at her tone. Forgiveness was a long way off, if ever. ‘I can’t tell if it’s the damn fog out there or if it’s my fucking sight.’

‘I…’ I braved a few steps into the room, turning as Sacha lurked in the shadows beyond. ‘We just ran from the fog. It was bad.’