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“Oh. Well. Apology accepted.” My voice sounded uncertain. I wrung my hands together, anxiety twisting through my stomach like snakes.

More silence. Alaric cleared his throat and dropped his gaze. I chewed on my lower lip, my eyes shifting to the moon’s glow through the window.

“Besides clothes, is there anything else you need?” he finally asked. “We should leave as soon as possible.”

I swallowed hard, thinking of my tonic. While in the fae lands, I would need to make another batch at some point. But I wasn’t about to tell Alaric that.

Realizing he was waiting for an answer, I cleared my throat. “Um, no, I don’t need anything else.” The knots tightened in my stomach, and I added, “What if—what if we don’t find any answers in the fae lands?” I forced myself to meet his gaze. “What if you never find out who Gran was working with? Will you…” I broke off and swallowed. “Will you kill me?”

Alaric’s jaw hardened, his eyes drilling into mine. “No.” The word was firm. Forceful.

“What will you do?” I asked. “Clearly, your people aren’t happy that I’m here.” I gestured to the corpses still visible by the doorway. Storms, wasn’t anyone going to clean that up?

“That won’t matter.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“Are you finished with your relentless questions?” he snapped, his eyes flashing. “I have better things to do than satiate your curiosity.”

My mouth clamped shut, and irritation prickled through me. I lifted my chin and looked him in the eye. “Fine. As soon as someone brings me clothes, I will dress and be ready.”

“Good,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and striding out of the room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Sixteen

THE WOLF

As soon as I closed Cerise’s door, Tavik spiraled into a panic.

“You shouldn’t leave her alone, Alaric. Go back in there and ensure she’s safe. Two Mages tried to kill her. Clearly, she needs your protection.”

“Tavik, please,” I growled. My wolf had been blathering about Cerise nonstop for the last half hour. The entire time I’d been in her room, he’d rambled on and on about how he felt her, he sensed her, he was connected to her.

It was just like in the cabin, when she’d bewitched him.

What the hell was she doing to my wolf?

My thoughts turned to the elixir Dulsa had given me—the Moonfire juice. It was currently sitting in my chambers, untouched. I wondered if I should take it. Perhaps it would help Tavik settle.

“No,” Tavik argued, his voice full of alarm. “We don’t need it, Alaric. I don’t need it.”

The elixir had been used for Rogues, and Tavik and I were fine. We weren’t in any danger of becoming volatile. Besides, I couldn’t afford to lose my wits today, not with Cerise accompanying me to the fae lands. If the potion affected my abilities at all, particularly my ability to shift, it could endanger my life—or hers.

I shook my head. “You’re right. I won’t take it.”

When I called for a servant, a petite brown-haired Mage with freckles, she approached with a curtsy, then let out a shrill yelp at the sight of the dead bodies on the floor. After explaining what had happened, I asked her to send for a pair of guards to properly dispose of the bodies, and to have fresh clothes brought to Cerise’s rooms that were more suited to her stature.

The servant, whose face was bone-white, nodded hastily, her brown curls bobbing, before she vanished down the staircase.

Agitated and restless, I busied myself with dragging the corpses of the two Mages down the hall to make it easier for the guards once they arrived. I glared for a moment at the dead Mages. Their names were Locke and Verne, and I had trained them personally.

I never thought they were capable of disobeying me in such a severe manner. And my heart twisted in agony at the reminder that I had taken their lives.

But I’d had no choice. Even after ordering them to stand down, they had insisted Cerise was dangerous—so dangerous that I could no longer be trusted as their captain.

I scowled, anger burning in my chest as I forced my gaze away from the dead soldiers and made my way back down the hall to Cerise’s room.

A few minutes later, the servant returned with a bundle of fabric in her arms. She offered me a brief and wobbly curtsy before knocking on Cerise’s door.