“Why…?” Thalia tried to whisper the question, but her voice was too unsteady.
But he knew what she wanted to know, offering a lopsided smile as he eased down beside her. “The way I understand it, you can’t just decide to have my baby. That sort of thing’s left up to fate among your people, isn’t that right?”
“Well, yes.” She’d heard that Animari could decide when to reproduce, and until then, there was no risk in sexual pleasure.
“Then I shouldn’t take that choice away from you.”
She raised a brow. “It’s unlikely that one encounter would do the job, even assuming we’re a fertile pair.”
“Even if the chance is slight, we should decide to try together, or avoid the risk. It shouldn’t be a whim of mine since it’s your body at stake.”
Understanding broke over her at last. This was a measure of his concern. “You’re trying to protect me.”
“As best I can.”
Softly she kissed away the trace of blood from his lower lip. “I appreciate it. If you like, we can ask Dr. Wyeth about the probability of conception, and in the meantime, there’s medicine I can take for prevention.”
“If that’ll put your mind at ease.”
Sighing, she said, “You’re too casual about this. Aren’t you supposed to want to—”
I can’t say it.
“I already marked you, Lady Silver. Maybe your people won’t be able to tell but the wolves at Daruvar will have no doubt at all what happened here today.” The wolfish grin curved his mouth, tugging at the scar half-hidden in his beard.
Irritated with his smug teasing, she got up and scrubbed her stomach, trying not to blush. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be. They won’t bother you about it, and I’m sure Janek will be relieved that we’re getting along so well. He likes you.”
That revelation caught her by surprise. She laid down the damp cloth and came back to the bed, mostly because it was so damn cold. The fire in the hearth could only do so much against the ice storm outside. “He does?”
“Indeed. Just the other day, he called you a tactical genius, in fact.”
“And what’s your opinion?”
“You need to get under the covers before you freeze your pretty tits off.”
It wasn’t obedience, Thalia told herself. Just common sense. Yet it still gave her more joy than it should have to comply with his suggestion and snuggle up against his hard, hot chest. His arms felt so nice around her that she could’ve purred.
Maybe a marriage of convenience to a wicked wolf wasn’t so bad after all.
Raff could hardly believe his eyes.
The soon-to-be Eldritch queen lolled in his arms, her mouth slightly open and so completely unconscious that it was impossible not to take it as a compliment, either to his sexual skills or his trustworthy nature. Either way, he found her faith endearing if a little puzzling. After all, reliable wasn’t the word that usually sprang to mind when people described him.
Idly he ran his fingers through her hair, marveling at how the silver strands caught the firelight and shone like platinum. Her body felt so fragile to contain so much determination, and damn, from what he’d seen, the odds were not good. The Eldritch didn’t like coming straight for conflict; instead, they lingered in the shadows and winnowed away at the foundations, until suddenly, your house toppled over.
He spared a moment to wish his phone hadn’t been smashed in the cave-in. It would be good to touch base with Janek and Skylett, maybe even call to see how things were going in Pine Ridge. Through technology, it would also be possible to check on his traps and drones to verify the status of the holdings around Daruvar, though the storm might jack up the signal. Raff sighed.
Ah, well. No point fretting over what couldn’t be changed.
Pulling up the rough, thick covers, which had been stitched together out of random fabric and then stuffed with bird feathers, Raff closed his eyes. Their body heat made the strange bed feel cozy, and with his belly full, it was a decent place to ride out the storm. In time, he slept, and then—
I’m on the floor, bleeding. I can’t remember when the beating stopped or when the next one will begin. Nobody says anything. It’s all right, because I can heal the hurt and shake it off. It’s not like I’m a Latent or a pup in need of protection.
Nearly grown, that’s what everyone says.
The room is cold and dark, Father paces in the hall. I can hear his curses, the half-coherent rantings. He’s calling me the devil that killed his mate? That means he’s had far too much liquor, enough to kill a Golgoth, and he’ll be coming for me soon. Evert will try to stop him. He’ll try.
I should take the punishment, even if I don’t exactly understand why.
“Stupid accursed whelp, where are you?”
I know I shouldn’t, but I can still feel the belt and my mouth is still bleeding. If I’m fast, I can escape to the woods and live for a few days, until my father’s in his right mind again. When the door opens, I bolt, shoving through to the corridor. Hard hands reach for me, but Evert is there, struggling. Behind me, they’re struggling—
He jolted awake, heart hammering hard in his chest. It had been a long time since he had the nightmare, but he could still see his brother at the base of the steep steps, sprawled at unnatural angle, blood spilling from his cracked skull. Such accidental deaths were rare among the pack, yet another reason for his father to hate him. Sometimes he wished the old man would simply die, but he wasn’t gone, even now. Instead, the pack had called for a vote of no-confidence and quietly confined him, and the outside world heard from Rand Pineda no more.
Wonder how she’ll take that news.
“Raff?” Her hand
