Page 46 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers
Our isle willneverbe theirs.
The tapestry shifts, and a hand snakes out from behind the heavy hanging.
A scream rises in my throat, but the hand latches on to my wrist, yanking me forward. Every muscle in me braces for the slam of hard stone behind it, but instead, the tapestry gives way.
I slip right through the edge where it meets the wall—into a hidden alcove, and a hard, hot chest. Leather and smoke envelope my senses, but it’s the sweet scent of sage that keeps the panic from devouring me as a rough voice curses.
“By the Martyr, I told you—you won’t find a way out.”
Wolf.
A slice of flickering torchlight manages to bleed through the edge of the tapestry. Without it, we’d be in pure darkness. It’s just enough to make him out. The edges of his dark hair, raked back as if in frustration, and the glimmer of gold from the clasp at the collar of his black cloak. Weapons down his sides catch the sliver of light, and his dark eyes are coals.
“Who says I’m looking for one?” I keep my voice low, but anger clips my words.
“You did.” There’s something hard but wary at the edges of his words.
Right. After he saw my dirt-streaked feet, I let him think I tried to run instead of admitting the truth about the panic. “Maybe I’m a liar.”
Wolf’s eyes flash in the dark.
He steps back, releasing my wrist. “And here I thought you might want to know if your sister’s still breathing. But I don’t helpliars, so which is it?”
Embers crackle up my spine. I finger the edge of the knife at my side—the one he gave me. Fuck, I want to ask. Ineedto ask. But that self-satisfied smirk he wears…
My heart hammers. “I swear by the Old Ones, if you hurt her…”
Wolf leans back against the wall, crossing both arms over the leather jacket fastened beneath his heavy cloak. He’s wearing his sword again, not just the knives down his sides. “Go on.”
Footsteps sound in the distance, and we both freeze.
Soft laughter grows louder, sharpening on each clack of heeled shoes on the stones.
I feel, rather than see, the brutal cunning in Wolf’s eyes slice to me in the dark.
A flash of lethal determination burns in his hard gaze and I know: He would fight whoever is on the other side of this tapestry rather than let anyone find him here, rather than risk being captured.
What would the Lady of Shadows do to someone like him?
To someone like me, if she knew why I’m really here?
Wolf’s eyes ensnare me in place. Neither of us daring to move an inch.
Slowly, the echo of laughter and heels on stone fade. The only sound between us is the hushed rustle of our breathing.
Wolf tuts his tongue behind his teeth, one hand rubbing along the stubbled edge of his scarred jaw. The way he watches me sends a ripple up the length of my spine.
He presses off the wall, taking a single step closer. “You didn’t try to run.”
Pride swells against my ribs. “I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t. I’m my mother’s daughter.”
And she wasn’t a coward either.
Wolf’s head cocks, a sliver of dark curiosity flaring in his eyes.
“So it seems” is all he says.
The darkness feels so heavy, I could slash through it with a single swipe of my knife.
