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“We didn’t kill her,” said the tawny-haired Wolven.

I snorted, wiping my dripping nose. “I don’t believe you. You aren’t fae, either. So you could easily be lying.”

Alaric inched closer to me, and I tensed, preparing for him to pin me to the wall with his arm again. “You’re right. We aren’t fae. We are Wolven Mages.”

I flinched. I’d figured as much.

Of course they’d killed Gran. She’d warned me they were nearby. They had likely stumbled upon her cottage while I wasn’t here and killed her.

“But we swear we did not kill her,” he said. “We found her like this.”

“Liar,” I snarled. “You hate us. That’s why you killed her, and it’s why you choked me.”

His eyes closed for a brief moment as if he were praying for patience. But I didn’t care. I didn’t give a damn if I was trying his patience. He killed my grandmother. He almost killed me, too.

He could craft the cleverest lie and I still wouldn’t believe him.

Alaric inhaled deeply before opening his eyes. “Regardless of what you do or do not believe, we must investigate why this totem was found here.”

“You can keep it,” I said quickly. “I don’t know why my grandmother had it, but I don’t care. If it belongs to your people, then just take it and leave me be.”

Alaric’s nostrils flared. “She was your grandmother?”

I swallowed and said nothing. Had that been a mistake? Should I have pretended not to know her at all?

Alaric exchanged another significant look with his companion. I wished they wouldn’t do that. I had the distinct impression they were mentally communicating.

Perhaps it was a Wolven power. I didn’t know all they could do.

And that frightened me. My chest rose and fell as my breaths became sharper. More ragged.

Alaric drew closer to me.

“I said to just keep it!” I cried, retreating a step to keep distance between us. “I don’t know anything about it. Just keep the damn trinket and get out of my house!”

“It isn’t just a trinket,” Alaric said in an even voice. “It belongs to our king. We need to know why your grandmother had it. And who killed her.”

“I don’t know,” I bit out, my chest tightening. If these two didn’t leave soon, I was certain I would explode. The rage and turmoil inside me coiled like a serpent ready to strike. “I can’t help you. Gran kept a lot of secrets from me, and I don’t know anything about the trinket. So, you can leave now.”

“Unfortunately,” Alaric said slowly, his golden eyes sharpening, “we cannot simply take your word for it. Witches hate our kind.”

I gritted my teeth together so hard my head started to throb. I wonder why, I thought savagely, my eyes straying to my grandmother’s body once more. Bile churned in my gut. Storms, I was going to be sick if I kept looking at her.

“What do you want from me?” I demanded, my voice quivering.

“There is a particular kind of spell that can unearth the truth,” said Alaric. “But we cannot cast it here. It only works in our lands.”

My heart twisted with unease. What was he implying?

“You must come with us,” Alaric said.

I shook my head, backing up another step. “No. Absolutely not.”

“We swear not to harm you.”

“Bullshit!” I screamed. “You already almost killed me! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The tawny-haired one suddenly stiffened and sniffed the air. “They’re close,” he murmured.