Page 97 of Throne of the Wolf Queen

‘Don’t be too angry with him, Mrs Asmar.’ I think the empress wrinkled her nose as she looked at the youngest Elmswood, but the swirling anger made it even more difficult to see. ‘Those Asmars are rather easy to trick. Isn’t that so?’

I peered closer, watching as beads of sweat rolled over Ifan’s clammy forehead. He was dying.

‘What have you done to him?’ I whispered.

‘Oh, it wasn’t me. My Illusory courted him. Persuaded silly little Asmar that he’d be a great warrior, and so, when Eiriulf arrived with ink and needle in hand, the snivelling little lump couldn’t rip his shirt off fast enough. I knew he’d make amends for all those nights I was forced to sit and wipe the snot from him.’

Ifan coughed, his hand catching the thick tar he spat up.

‘The Gods will destroy you for this, you evil fuck⁠—’

The back of the empress’s hand silenced me. ‘Don’t vex me, Mrs Asmar. I’m not gifted with patience.’

The abbot pointed a shaking finger at me. ‘Her neck, your Imperial Majesty. Look at her neck.’

The force of her slap had sent the ring from under my dress. I gripped it tight as the empress squealed. ‘Is it the one? Please tell me it’s the one?’

‘It’s nothing,’ I said. ‘Not even real ruby. A gift. A joke⁠—’

‘The temple, Imperial Majesty,’ Eiriulf said. ‘Time is not our friend.’

Rolling her eyes, she tutted. ‘Gods, have you ever tried being fun?’

Her gaze swung onto me.

‘Will you be a good little girl and give me that ruby?’ She sniffed, wiping a smudge of onyx from her nose.

‘Fuck you,’ I said, spitting into her face.

‘Dirty Asmar. I was hoping you wouldn’t be as vexing as that damned husband of yours. No matter. Ifan?’

He raised his head before taking a faltering step towards me and trembled by his empress.

‘I’m afraid stubborn Mrs Asmar intends to hold us up. Remember what I said?’

He nodded numbly, refusing to meet my glare.

‘Don’t kill her. Not yet anyway.’

Ifan stepped forward, ripping the chain over my head as I struggled beneath his grip.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into my ear, before pain tore through my skull and the world descended into darkness.

CHAPTER 36

MATTHIAS

Have we cast aside all The Chronicles have taught us? Are we to deny Vyrus? Risk his ire on the entire world based on the whims of a king? The promises of a dead queen? I guarantee you this: if you deny Vyrus the soul of the bastard princess, you’ll condemn this world. Just wait and see.

​— ​ABBOT EIRIULF’S STATEMENT TO THE ALLIANCE

A tongue, warm and rough, worked its way along my neck and a lazy smile hooked up my mouth, memories of last night flooding my mind. The beauty of Sorrow’s body beneath mine, those delicious sounds her plump lips made. The weak light attempting to pierce the gloom told my half-open eyes it was still early. My arm wrapped around her, the fur she’d covered those perfect breasts with, and I shuffled closer. We could still steal some time together before we faced the burdens of reality. Warmth pooled way down inside as the heat of her body radiated across my pebbled skin. A moan broke through my lips as she nuzzled my ear. Her snout, so wet, so warm⁠—

Snout?

My eyes flew open, neck twisted and the fucking wolf licked my face.

‘Eugh,’ I screeched, leaping up and throwing a pillow over my bare crotch as I stared down at the oversized rug, who’d stolen my side of the bed. The damn thing smirked, smirked, before stretching out his front legs, ensuring I got a good eyeful of his thick, sharp claws.