Fuck me.

This woman is a predator.

I stalk toward the desk, resting my blanched knuckles oneither side of her perfumed little ass, bringing my lips to within an inch of hers.

“You would steal the throne from Rian?” My voice purrs with a barely contained threat.

“Youare the rightful king—you would be doing the stealing. I would simply be wearing your ring.”

I almost want to laugh at the gall of this pretty snake. She comes to her cousin’s bedroom, touches his belongings, and so sweetly conspires to stab him in the back with the man who has always been at his side.

Thisis the family I was born into?

In a move so fast she can barely gasp, I grip her neck in the vice of my hand and squeeze until I can feel her trachea close off. As her painted lips contort for air, I lean in close enough that my loose hair drags across her cheek.

“Listen closely,cousin. I will never betray Rian Valvere. I’d be a damn fool not to lick the filth off his boots in gratitude for all he’s done for me. I gave him the throne—and I would again tomorrow and every damn day after. I’d rather be buried to my balls in fire ants and doused with honey than marry you. And unless you want me to tell Rian about your scheming, you’ll stay the hell away from me.”

I release her with a shove that sends her collapsing backward on the desk, rasping for air as she massages her throat.

“Get out,” I snap.

She stops at the door. “You’ll rethink this, Wolf Bowborn. A lot can change in a matter of days—look how much already has.”

Chapter 4

Sabine

Idon’t dare look back.

Chest heaving, I race through the maze of towering trees, throwing glances upward in hopes of seeing the sun through the thick mist. My boots crush a crop of glowing orange mushrooms that release a stench like rotting corpses. As I duck under a low pine branch, a vine falls on my shoulder, slithering with a mind of its own.

I clap my hand over my mouth to muffle my shriek as I fight to free myself from the vine and plunge deeper into the woods. I run blindly, as hard as I can, until my thighs burn. When I can’t run another step, I drop to my stomach behind a copse of waist-high ferns that I hope will conceal me.

I’m no fool—I’ve seen how fast Iyre can move. She’s practically godkissed with speed. Trying to outpace her in a foreign land would be a mistake.

All I can do is hide.

My breath strains against my ribs. My shoulder-length hair is a mess, filled with tangled thorns. My arms are covered in scratches and welts. The ground beneath me isunnaturally cold, so cold the mist around me leaves the ferns frost-tipped.

Closing my eyes, I listen, wishing I had Basten’s senses.

Leaves rustle in the steady wind. An insect trills overhead. At any second, I fear footsteps approaching.

Thelastthing I expect is for a curious voice to chirp,Whatcha doing, girlie?

I flinch, swallowing a yelp, and go tense in case I need to fight. But when I look to my left, a friendly face with a lolling tongue greets me.

My lips part, but I only sputter for words.

The creature is the size and shape of a fox, with a fox’s thin lupine face and sly black eyes, except that this one’s feet don’t touch the ground. Its glossy silver-blue fur floats like it’s swimming, its silver-clawed paws treading the air.

You’re a cloudfox,I say in surprise.

It paws the air to float up higher, nose sniffing, tilting its head this way and that to examine me. Its head jerks sharply to the right, silver ears swiveling toward a sound I can’t hear.

Girlie is being hunted,it says.Follow me!

Before I can utter another thought, the creature bounds off through the trees. Its paws barely skim the ground as it does its floaty-swimmy movements, gracefully arcing around vines and ducking under branches.