Page 24 of The Wolf

Pyre had loved this bakery for years now; he especially loved it after he started using it to meet with Tempest long before she knew she was his mate. A small smile curled up his lips. Somehow that felt like years ago but he’d always known Tempest was going to be Pyre’s. Brine’s mood lifted somewhat as he reminisced about the past. He hadn’t trusted Tempest back then—not for a long time—even though Pyre insisted she would end up on their side. Even when she was being held against her will in the forest whilst her injuries healed. But Brine had come around eventually, and now Tempest was his favorite sparring partner, as well as someone Brine knew he could always trust to speak the truth to him. She was like a sister to him in the same way Pyre was his brother.

Chosen family.

His chosen pack.

Not cursed to be related to him by blood. Not like he was cursed to be the grandson of Old Mother.

His mood darkened.

He’d not stopped thinking about what was going on in his home province and how he might put an end to it. For hehadto put an end to it, Pyre’s orders be damned. In all honesty, meeting Pyre today was more out of courtesy and curiosity than obedience. The time had come for Brine to kill his grandmother. And if Pyre gave Brine more orders that were contrary to him upending his familial wolf pack—such as sending him away for weeks on end at sea—then Brine fully intended to ignore him.

It was with some relief that he reached his destination. The cozy bakery had a tower built above it, where Brine knew Pyre would be waiting for him. Hoping the kitsune had the foresight to have food ready for Brine, given that he’d eaten nothing but ship rations for almost four weeks, his stomach growled loudly as he tromped up the stairs toward the top of the tower, fatigue and hunger riding him.

Brine pushed open the door that led to the attic and stepped inside the spacious room.

Pyre lounged on the window seat to the east; as usual one of his legs languorously swung over the windowsill to catch the morning sun slowly rising over the horizon. A small spark of amusement lit in Brine’s chest. The kitsune liked to pretend he was spontaneous, but deep down he was a creature of habit. The same meeting place, the same favorite spot to sit, the same black silk top hat upon his head. It was a wonder Pyre had never truly been caught by the crown, back when he’d been wanted dead by King Destin; it was easy to track his patterns once you knew him.

It was getting to know him that was the difficult part.

Brine tossed the thought to the side as he growled, “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to meet in a more convenient location when your right-hand man has been traveling via his least favorite mode of transportation for almost a month.”

Brine prowled over to a wooden crate and sat down, somewhat gratified to see that Pyre had at least procured a twisted loaf of sourdough bread and a large helping of generously salted butter from the bakery. His stomach growled again and Brine eagerly ripped into the still-warm bread. He almost sighed at how good it tasted. Baked bread was the food of the gods. Maybe it was a good idea that they met here.

Not that he’d tell the kitsune that.

Pyre had the audacity to laugh, his amber eyes twinkling. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” He chuckled. He lifted a closed container from the window seat and held it out to Brine. His fingers curled around the warm package and he held it to his nose.

Bacon. His favorite.

Brine tore into the container and popped a crunchy strip into his mouth. Embarrassingly, he did sigh like a contented pup.

“That good, huh?” Pyre teased. “Give me some.”

Brine narrowed his eyes; his wolf ears flattened against his head. “Get your own. I’ve been living on bland rations for weeks.”

Pyre held his hands up and grinned. “Touchy, touchy. I’ll leave you to the bacon and I’m glad you didn’t dally on your way over from the docks. Things have grown more complicated here.” The grin faded from Pyre’s face, making him look more like the Jester than his usual happy self. “Hopefully, that helps apologize somewhat to me picking such an out-of-the-way meeting place. But I needed to ensure I was talking to you on safe ground.”

Safe ground?

Brine swallowed his bite and set the bacon aside. Whatever Pyre was about to say, it wasn’t anything good. Especially if he felt like he couldn’t reveal his thoughts in the palace.

He straightened his back, pricked up his ears, and listened. “Tell me.”

“A lot has transpired since I sent you back to the sea,” Pyre began, taking off his hat to twirl it in his hands. His hair was overgrown around his ears, curling wildly and untidily.

Another sign this was serious. Pyre was vain to a fault.

“You mean since you sent me off on a decoy mission so I wouldn’t focus on Betraz,” Brine corrected, as he took another slow bite of bread.

“Correct.” At least Pyre never lied to him. “Not that it was a decoy mission. You gave me some useful intel by tracking some of the pirates into the Giants’ territory.”

The kitsune was stalling.

“Just tell me what you need to tell me and be done with it,” Brine pressed. He smacked his lips when he sadly finished his breakfast all too soon, savoring the salt on his tongue before wiping his hands on his trousers like a brute.

The Jester fixed him with a level, liquid amber stare. “Long story short: the duke of Merjeri has been murdered.”

Brine blinked slowly. “Murdered?”

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