“I’m a wolf, not a demon. I’m not trying to get between your legs tonight.” He tugged gently on the cord that bound their wrists. “What do you usually sleep in?
“Nothing,” Thalia said. “If you close your eyes and move your arm as I do, maybe I can get undressed.”
If I can’t, I’m taking this damned knot off and a pox on your pack customs. There’s no way I’m sleeping in this dress.
His obedience almost made her smile, despite the steady thrum of grief that beat through her as regular as her heartbeat. It took a little maneuvering, but she managed to get out of her dress without destroying it, thanks to the many buttons in back and sleeveless design. There was no way for Raff to disrobe without ruining his suit, but he didn’t seem to care. He looked away until she climbed under the covers and then he flopped on top, fully dressed. His groan echoed her own sentiments perfectly.
Folding his free arm behind his head, he kicked off his shoes. “I could sleep for a week.”
“We can’t, unfortunately.”
“Do you ever think about running away from it all?”
“Never,” she said.
“Me either. Hardly ever. Only like six or eight times a day.”
Thalia laughed. Unbelievable in this situation, and she felt immediately disloyal. “You make it sound as if you’re a figurehead in Pine Ridge, and I know that’s not true.”
“How?” he asked.
“Would you think it’s uncouth if I admit to acquiring certain intel on you?”
“I suppose that depends on the nature of what you’ve learned. Do you have any naked photos? If so, I hope they’re flattering. Or perhaps you’ve got a sex vid? I had been thinking of making one, so you can save me the trouble.”
She opened her eyes wide, conscious that he was being absurd to leaven her spirits. It seemed he didn’t mind mocking himself for her amusement. “I don’t have anything like that,” she said softly. “As for what I do have, I suppose you must wait and see.”
“Ah, secrets and intrigues. You exhaust me with such innuendo.”
“You pretend that you aren’t clever, Raff Pineda, but I find that you know what people need exceptionally well.”
He propped up on an elbow to stare at her in the dark. “You think I’m clever and striving to hide it?”
“Not very well,” Thalia muttered. “Yours is a rare gift, for the hearts of men cannot be calculated or reckoned with pure intellect.”
She sometimes feared she was too much her father’s daughter to be a good leader. Not an effective one, nobody could argue that she got results. But goodness? That was a separate issue entirely. Thalia had learned too much about subterfuge and deception at her father’s knee, not enough about personal warmth.
“You say the strangest things,” Raff mumbled.
“I applaud the tactic. It’s best if people underestimate your prowess. Such poor assessment leads to overconfidence, and that generally ends in abject defeat.”
“Go to sleep, Thalia. It will be another long day tomorrow.”
Since he was right, she tried her best, but her mind wouldn’t shut down until he set a hand on her stomach, blazing warm even through the covers. “Stop rolling. It’s like sharing the bed with four restless pups.”
A grumpy admonition, but it settled her down nonetheless. And then she slept.
In the morning, she woke much later than she’d planned. Late enough that Raff had untied the knot binding them. It’s been twenty-four hours already. She found a meal waiting for her, toasted bread with melted cheese and a dish of sliced fruit. Thalia ate quickly and washed up, then she donned simple black mourning clothes. Lileth wouldn’t care if she wore formal attire, after all.
The door opened as she was pulling on her boots, militant, not fashionable. “Good morning,” she said.
“Everything is set for the funeral. Are you ready?”
Not for this. Not ever.
“Of course.”
Raff’s four wolves waited outside, along with Ferith, Tirael, and some young Noxblades who had probably been promoted from their apprenticeships. Ferith needed to choose some likely children to begin training, or the numbers of capable agents in the field would diminish, a disastrous outcome with House Talfayen hovering on the brink of war.
She led the procession, all stately poise, but she might have stumbled if not for Raff’s arm beneath her hand. Everyone was already assembled in the hall, swiftly repurposed to honor Lil’s passing. They had no furnace here at Daruvar, so her body must burn the old way, in a fire built by hand. It was a sin that she should be laying Lileth to rest under such circumstances. Ruark Gilbraith had taken credit, but the one who had done his evil bidding was still roaming free. To make matters worse, Gavriel wasn’t even here to sing, so Tirael was filling in, but her voice was light and thready, lacking Gavriel’s resonance.
Offering Lileth such a second-rate Song of Death broke Thalia’s heart.
Raff had never attended an Eldritch funeral before. Among the pack, the ones who loved the deceased best would be singing and telling stories. This affair was quiet, after the eerie chorus. Thalia blew out a candle and moved about with a censer of heated oil and made a sigil on everyone else’s forehead. Then, a company of Noxblades took the linen-wrapped body out to a bonfire they’d built in the courtyard.
The wolves had been asked to move their vehicles to one side, making space, but he didn’t know why until now. With great ceremony, they consigned Lileth to the flames. It all seemed short and simple, but he didn’t ask about the reasons behind their rites. It didn’t make sense to ask about battle strategies in the middle of a fight, and the same principle applied here.
The mourners all threw something into the fire. Some had herbs, others had books or household articles, and Thalia dropped a whole dress on the fire. He would’ve liked to ask
