Page 51 of The Wolf

Wordlessly, Dris yanked a rough-spun bag from beneath the floorboards in the pantry and shoved it into Scarlet’s arms. The bag had been placed there years ago, constantly restocked so she could leave at a moment’s notice, should she need to. Such as right now.

“You must go, Scarlet,” Gus urged, his brother nodding in agreement.

“But…” Scarlet didn’t know what else to say. What about the three of them? She didn’t want to leave everyone here. Her friends. Her people. Her home. She couldn’t run away and leave them to Arwen and the wolves. She had sworn to free the humans from the diamond mines, but she could do nothing of the sort if she ran away. “I can’t leave you.”

“You cannot stay either,” Jaq replied.

Dris pushed Scarlet out of the pantry and through the kitchen, the twins following closely behind. “We’re not taking no for an answer,” the older woman urged, quickly kissing Scarlet on the cheek goodbye before shoving her through the door, the twins in tow to help her through the gardens. That has always been Dris’s way. Quick, efficient, and a spine of steel. No nonsense. A kiss on the cheek was perhaps the most open gesture of affection she had ever shown Scarlet despite how much they deeply loved each other.

Tears filled her eyes at the prospect of never seeing her surrogate mother again, but Scarlet forced them back. She couldn’t cry now.

Just as the three of them reached the gate, Texel stopped his perimeter sweep with Tarros by his side. Her blood ran cold and a shiver of fear ran up her spine. On instinct, she dropped the bag at her feet and stood over it, obscuring the pack beneath her cloak. Her heart raced as the pair caught sight of her, Tarros’s gaze turning molten as it always did when it lingered on her for too long.

Her breath caught and time seemed to suspend itself.

Tarros smiled and then glanced away, the moment broken as they continued on, his limp still pronounced.

Scarlet stared at the twins in dismay, so weak in the knees she almost collapsed onto the damp morning grass. She could not leave now.

“Too many eyes have seen us,” she rasped, feeling sick. “If I go now, they’ll kill you both. There’s no way I can leave now.”

“You must,” Gus said, picking up the pack. “Don’t worry about us.”

“No.” Scarlet shook her head. “Your mother will be punished as well. You know that. I could never do that.”

For a moment, the twins looked like they were going to argue with her, but ultimately, they knew better. They both knew that Arwen would slaughter her way through the staff in punishment.

She curled her fingers into fists and swallowed down her fear. Arwen had been threatening to kill her for years. It shouldn’t scare her. She’d finally have peace for the living hell that inhabited her life.Heat pressed at the back of her eyes.

Stay strong. Don’t cry.

“Lady Scarlet,”a soft but authoritative voice said from behind them. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

Scarlet blinked hard and turned. The voice belonged to Mourne, one of her stepmother’s enforcers. He was of a lighter complexion than most of the other wolves, with pale amber eyes and light sandy coloring to his cropped hair. Scarlet sparred with him sometimes, because he was one of the only wolves who didn’t go out of his way to inflict as much pain on her as possible.

But that didn’t mean he was a friend either.

He was as much of a spy as she was.

Scarlet inclined her head politely. It was the only thing she was capable of accomplishing. “What is it?” she managed.

“Lady Arwen has summoned you. If you would follow me to the reception hall, I’d be much obliged.”

A polite command.

Scarlet fought her shaking hands and unease that filled her. Her veins thrummed with adrenaline, her fight-or-flight response ready and raring to go even though she could do neither.

Arwen knew.

This was it. This was how she died.

Still healing from a flogging, her body aching, unable to fight back.

Surrounded by wolves that would revel in seeing her break in two.

All at the hands of her oldest—and once only—friend.

TWENTY-FIVE

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