Page 5

I already knew that much. Many of the Rogues we tracked were apprehended within a day at most. But this one was clever. It was able to mask itself for long periods of time, which shrouded it from view. Even our wolves could not track it down.

“This is why I cannot free you right now,” I explained to Tavik. “We are tracking something unique. Let me take charge tonight, and I will release you come sunrise.”

I could tell Tavik was displeased with this, but he grumbled his assent. Part of being a Wolven Mage was sharing a soul with our bonded beast. Tavik and I inhabited the same soul. Our bodies shifted, alternating often. We were equals, and the balance between our bodies was delicate and needed to be handled with care. Those who tried to wrestle control of their wolves by force eventually became Rogues. If the dissonance between man and wolf was not healed, it eventually destroyed their soul in a violent blast called a rupture.

It was a fate worse than death.

I sighed, running my hand along my shaved head. Black hair was starting to grow in, making my head feel scratchy.

“You need to shave again,” Tavik complained. He preferred my head to be completely bare.

All wolves were different, but Tavik was a Long-haired Darkwalker. Not only was he bigger and taller than most wolves, but his hair was genetically longer than a normal wolf’s. If I let my hair grow out like Reid’s, Tavik’s fur would become so long that any kind of lithe movement would be near impossible.

Reid emitted a sudden low growl, and I stilled. The hairs on my arms stood on end, and within me, Tavik rumbled with awareness. The wind shifted, and I sensed it.

We were not alone.

I froze, spine stiff as I listened hard. Reid went still, too, his gold eyes gleaming in the darkness.

“We should shift,” Tavik urged.

The smell of sweat and leather reached my nose. “No. Whoever it is, they’re too close, and they’ve already seen us.”

Tavik growled in frustration.

“I told you there were Wolvens out here,” said a distinctly male voice. Leaves crunched as he drew closer.

I shifted, turning to face the newcomer. Two figures appeared in the darkness. One was tall, skinny, and bearded, and the other was a short, squat figure with a mop of gnarled black hair. Both had pointed fae ears and wore hunting leathers.

“Good evening,” I said casually, inclining my head in their direction. “What can we do for you?” There was no use denying we were Wolven Mages—our glowing golden eyes gave us away.

“Shut up, dog!” shouted the squat one, brandishing a small dagger.

“Shh,” hissed the first male, flapping his hand urgently. “Don’t you know their fangs can tear you to bits in a single bite?”

I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. “We won’t hurt you. Not unless you try to hurt us.”

“Your kind don’t belong here,” the squat one tried again. “There’s a reward offered for any Wolven we can bring to the king. Dead or alive.”

I exchanged a wary look with Reid. This was new information. We’d known that hunting Wolven Mages was allowed, but putting a bounty on us? King Nolan, the Mage King, had been striving fruitlessly for years to smooth relations between us and the fae. This meant his dealings with the fae were not going well.

“Please,” said Reid, his tone low and dangerous. “You don’t want to do this.”

“Oh, we’re not gonna do anything,” said the skinny male, flashing a wide smile with crooked teeth. “We brought someone to do the work for us.”

The sharp smell of cloves filled the air as a third figure emerged from the darkness. Reid and I both stiffened, arms rigid at our sides.

I hadn’t noticed her scent before, which meant she must have masked it. Eyes narrowed, I stared hard at the witch. She had long, black hair that ran down her back. Her brilliant blue eyes seemed to pierce right through me. Her red lips curled into a smug smile as she gazed from me to Reid and back again.

If the fae were bad, the witches were ten times worse. Normally, the fae and witches didn’t get along. But it seemed they had been united against a common enemy: us.

“Just two?” the witch said with mock disappointment. “I was hoping for more of you.”

“You’re fast,” I said to Tavik. “If I shift, we could probably outrun them.”

“The witch would stun us before we’d get away,” he said. “And you know I am more susceptible to witch magic than you.”

This was true. In human form, I was more resistant, likely because of the Wolven magic running through my veins. In wolf form, Tavik did not possess any magic to protect himself.