Page 14 of Hidden

“No.”

She huffed in disbelief. “What about your friend, the vampire? What’s her role here?”

“The ways of the Undead are inscrutable.” Worry twisted in his chest. He wanted to ask about Izetta’s condition, but then the fae would use her as leverage, putting them both worse off than before. He had to trust his friend’s talent for survival.

Lila regarded him as if he were a faintly annoying bug. “Start talking, wolf.”

Her chill tone roused his temper. It said he was no better than the slime in the prison floor drain, but then that was how light fae talked to the rest of the world. They kept aloof from other supernatural races, as if mortality were a nasty social disease.

A flash of bitterness seared through him, acid in his blood—but he kept his face neutral. “How many have you killed before me?”

For an instant, she looked taken aback. She hid the emotion quickly, but not fast enough. “What are you talking about?”

“My kin.” There was no advantage in hiding this particular truth. “They came into this valley and never returned. The vampire is helping me search for them.”

Lila took a step back from the bars, as if his words had physically pushed her. “What makes you think they came to this house?”

“It’s the only building around here.”

“That’s your reason for breaking in?” She waved a hand. “Because we are here?”

He lifted a brow. “I know my people were in these woods. I’m an expert tracker.”

The Silent Wolves were specialists, working alone or embedded in a human unit. A trained operative could follow their mark across any terrain—snow or sand, jungle or forest. Over the last decade, he’d been deployed to them all.

But he wasn’t about to advertise his combat experience to the fae. He’d already proven himself a threat, and scary wolves ended up as throw rugs.

Silence fell between them for a moment. Her scent tugged at him, reminding him of woodlands where the soft moss cooled his paws. There was something floral in it. Lily of the valley?

He jerked himself back to the confines of the cell, reminding himself that she was the enemy, a mistress of glamour and illusion, not to be trusted. The walls felt heavy again, as if they were crushing his lungs.

She was frowning at him, still angry but clearly curious. “Are you sure other wolves came here? Why would they do that?”

He took another step closer, moving so slowly she didn’t seem to notice. “They were hunting a criminal. They were good trackers, but not as good as me.”

A shadow passed over her—not just her features, but her entire being, as if some inner light had dimmed. “Who were they hunting? I want a name.”

Rafe took that flicker of doubt as an admission. She knew who he was looking for, or she suspected something. He debated how much to tell her. “I don’t have a name.”

Doubt flickered in her eyes. “You went to a lot of effort to break into our property. That’s a big risk for a nameless villain.”

“Maybe.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who sent you?”

“Pack.”

She curled her fingers around the bars. “Even though all the wolves who came here disappeared? Are you that much better or just that much easier to throw away?”

Something deep inside him flinched. “Maybe both.”

Her jaw hardened. “The fae are patient. We have all the time in the world, and you aren’t going anywhere. Sooner or later, one of you will give me real answers.”

His stomach twisted, the old terror of confinement closing in. She began to pull away, but he caught her hand before she let go of the bars. Her skin was cool beneath his. “You can’t cage me. You’ve got to let us go. All of us wolves, and my vampire friend.”

She snatched her hand away. “We don’t kidnap random strangers.”

“Then what is this prison for?” Rafe gave the walls a casual wave. “This isn’t a wine cellar, and I’m not merlot.”

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