Page 33
“…she was beautiful with big ol’ knockers…”
“…the hugest werewolf I’d ever seen…”
“…and then he bit my…”
My mind spins from all the cadences and a gnawing, clawing hunger.
“I still can’t believe the sacrifice tried to flee with those fucking vamps last night,” a hunter complains between a mouthful of juicy chicken. “She put up one hell of a fight too. Did you see Brutus’s face?”
The hunter beside her laughs. “Broke his damn nose.”
I’m grateful my veil hides my proud grin.
“Tell me”—she waves her fork toward the trackers opposite her—“how did four of them slip through Wall Lilium to begin with?”
A freckle-faced tracker shrugs, cramming several potato wedges into his mouth. I nearly salivate at the sight of carbohydrates. “Tyl is supposed to head the investigation, but he couldn’t make it in for his shift today ‘cause his wild wife went into labor.”
Cress went into labor? Today? During the Death Moon, during a full moon.
Panic chokes me.
“Mm!” Another tracker nods vigorously. His long, wheat-blond hair slips over his shoulders from the movement and dips across his plate. The heathen eats around it. “There’s something off about that woman. The way she looks at us sometimes… it gives me the creeps.”
The hunter’s brow furrows. “What do you—”
The dining hall’s doors fly open, and I nearly fall from the throne. Tyl’s frantic eyes land on me, and dread immediately ices over in my veins. What is he doing here? Shouldn’t he be with Cress? His creamy skin is paler than usual, making the hollowed circles under his sage eyes even more devastating than usual. “Sacrifice!”
One stern glance from King Joal roots me in place.
“What’s the meaning of this intrusion?” King Joal’s voice silences all chatter.
“My wife— C-c-cress is—” His stutter is back in full force, his mind moving too fast to keep up with his lips. He draws a deep breath and shuts his eyes as he says, “I’m s-sorry, Your Majesty. It’s my wife. She’s gone.”
My fingers dig into the armrests. Once again, hope threatens to blossom within my chest. Maybe Cress took my advice and fled Adelphi before Father and Vivvy could make good on their threats.
“What do you mean she’s gone?” King Joal asks.
Everyone collectively inches toward the edge of their seats, as if ready to leap into action.
“The m-midwife asked me to run an errand for more antiseptic and towels, saying s-she’d have to cut our baby out.” He drags a trembling hand through his mop of dull, brown hair. “But when I returned, they were gone. Both of them. The baby too.”
King Joal drains his wine, lips glistening as he says, “And what would my sacrifice have to do with your wife’s disappearance?”
His sacrifice. Not Norica’s. Not Vivvy’s.
His.
They are nothing without the blood of their sacrifices.
Tyl risks another glance at me, wringing his hands in front of him. “She’s commissioned Cress for years.” He straightens. “I t-thought maybe she’d have an idea of where she could’ve gone. Perhaps she overheard something last night?”
The ocean.
No. The ocean is too obvious. Cress had said once she wanted to have the baby as a wolf because their labors were typically shorter, and she couldn’t very well do that in Adelphi. Especially with tonight boasting a full moon where she’d be forced to shift regardless…
My pulse hums with the steadfast surety Cress must’ve gone somewhere safe, distant of mortals, free of danger and exposure. I wrack my brain.
Where?
