Page 139 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers
Cash’s eyes fly to Talon, widening. “Maeve—”
I reach out for him, gripping his arm. “This is it. Right now. I think you know that. So did you mean it? Are you really ready for this?”
His navy eyes burn like ice on bare skin, eager hunger flaring there.
You rebels want my father dead, right?That’s what he said to Wolf in his chamber.Good. So do I.
Cash’s shoulders tense as a stream of rain streaks down the planes of his face. “I’m in.”
“Good,” I say, and pray I’m not making a terrible mistake. “Because I’m about to kill your father.”
Steel hisses—the sound cuts through the screams and crashes all around us. Cash draws his broadsword between us, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Talon doesn’t step in front of me, but one hand snakes around my shoulders, gripping tight and ready to yank me back, sword drawn.
The two of them freeze, eyes locked on the other.
And for a single, terrifying flash, I fear the world is about to fall out from under me.
But Cash’s eyes fly to mine, lighting with something colder—harder—just as thunder splits the sky right overhead.
“Come on,” he shouts for me, slashing his sword above us as a long, black claw swoops down and eviscerates a guard mere feet away. “You won’t make it into his rooms without me.”
THIRTY-FOUR
The castle halls are thronged with bodies as the three of us storm inside—the copper tang of blood iseverywhere.
Cash pushes through the crowds of nobles. Some of them draw their weapons on one another, but enough turn them on the gardai that Talon snatches a sable cloak off a corpse and heaves it over their shoulders, pulling the hems close over their chest.
The blood-soaked gray conceals the crimson and black of their uniform, and the sword in their hand glints with a savage gleam in the torchlight.
Cash throws one arm out, holding me back as we round a blind corner. A noble with a slash across their stomach stumbles around it, clutching at his guts in his hands. Intestines spill out, tangling in the noble’s jeweled hands, but the gems and gold and silver do him no good now.
Without a word, Cash watches the man collapse, then steps over him.
“Fifth floor. Southwest corridor,” I pant.
He nods to the hall at our right. “This way.”
Talon never takes their eyes off the prince—the soon-to-beking.
Every one of the gardai we pass acknowledges Cash with a quick, firm nod. With him, no guard even tries to stop us.
The staircase he leads us to climbs up and up, and my legs burn.
Finally, we step out into a long hallway. Massive blocks of black marble, inlaid with tiny flecks of glittering gems, line the walls. Aquamarine, sapphire, something else? I can’t tell the difference. They catch the torchlight glowing from sconces on the wall, flickering violently as the castle shakes beneath the shriek of caoranach blows and whatever the mages and Whisperers are doing outside.
At the end of the hall, a curving, dark wood door inlaid with golden spirals gleams.
One lone guard stands at the door. No king would be left alone with a single guard, not now. This can’t be right.
The guard startles, reaching for the short sword at her waist, when she sees us. “Your Highness?” Her brows knot as she looks from me to Talon and back to Cash.
“I’m here to see my father,” Cash says calmy. He looks the guard up and down, and frowns as if finding her wanting. “The mages are attacking. Or hadn’t you heard?”
“I heard, but I thought…” She swallows, looking between us. “Someone needed to protect the king.”
“He’s in good hands now, I assure you.” Cash reaches for the elaborate iron knob on the door, surrounded by golden filigree. “What thekingneeds now is to know his castle is secure. Go. Do your duty and defend us.” His cold glare narrows on her in challenge. “Or do you fear the beasts outside?”
