Page 75 of The Wolf

There was too much at stake for him to risk everything on a romantic entanglement. No matter how delightful she was.

His body cried out at the thought of keeping his hands to himself. Even now he wanted to take her again, revel in his mate’s body that fit him perfectly.

He held out a shaking hand, his fingers inches from Scarlet’s cheek. There was an errant lock of hair there, slowly moving with every breath she took. It would be the easiest thing in the world to tuck it behind Scarlet’s ear, gently wake her with a kiss, and pretend like everything was perfect.

Instead, Brine rolled out of bed and got dressed, though it pained him to do so.

It was only after he finished combing and braiding his hair back, and had begun washing his face, that Scarlet began to rouse from sleep. Her return to consciousness was much sharper than Brine’s had been; one moment she was yawning, and the next she was sat fully upright, the covers held against her chest to protect her modesty.

Her large blue eyes were wide and aware as they found Brine’s. He rubbed his face with a towel, took far too long to refold the towel properly, then said, “Last night was a one-time thing.” He had to get the words out before his resolve escaped him entirely.

But he hadn’t expected to see pain ripple across Scarlet’s face before she had a chance to slip her usual mask back into place.

Part of his soul shriveled at the sight. He’d destroyed something precious with a few callous words. He knew it in the pit of his stomach.

Stay strong. Thousands of lives are at stake.

Abandoning the covers, Scarlet rose from bed naked to begin picking up her discarded clothes from the floor. In the true light of day Brine had an unfettered display of all the scars that he’d felt litter her skin the night before. Scarlet had been whipped so many times that even with Brine’s sharp eyes he couldn’t see the difference between the lines of the scars. They’d merged together, crisscrossing over almost every inch of the pale flesh of her back.

“Who did that to you?” he barked.

“Who do you think?” she said without feeling.

God, he wanted to kill Arwen.

Brine continued to watch his mate dress and zeroed in on the bite mark on Scarlet’s shoulder. A bolt of pride went through him. Even if it was all a lie—even if he could never sleep there again—Scarlet was still his. All his. Not his grandmother’s. Not that horrible red wolf— not Tarros’s.

Nobody buthis.

It was primal. The look of it almost turned him feral.

Brine felt a pang of regret when Scarlet finished putting her bloody, ruined dress back on, tying her tangled hair up over her shoulder with an air of finality.

“I’m taking herbs,” she said, focusing on a point right above his head. “There will be no babe from last night.”

Brine blinked slowly. He hadn’t even thought about that. “Good.” The word tasted like ash upon his tongue. He didn’t want a babe to be born into this world any more than she did. But it seemed so final.

She nodded curtly at him, all trace of the emotion and vulnerability she had shown him the night before long gone. “I’ll keep out of your way, so I expect you to do the same.”

Then she headed for the door, opened it, and was gone without another word.

THIRTY-SEVEN

SCARLET

“You seem to be getting comfortable with your new husband,” Arwen purred, linking her arm with Scarlet’s on their way to the dining hall. One month had passed since Scarlet and Brine had been wed, and they had fallen into a routine of sorts. They didn’t see each other all day—Scarlet acting as servant and spy to her stepmother, whilst Brine was doing only Dotae knew what. But at night Brine had Scarlet strip her clothes so he could hug her and mark her with his scent, so nobody would suspect what the true nature of their relationship was.

They slept in the same bed, skin on skin, like real lovers, even though it was all fake.

At first Scarlet couldn’t sleep. She had never shared a bed with anyone, let alone a naked man, and the whisper of someone else’s breathing in such close proximity to hers kept her awake into the small hours of the morning. But, eventually, Scarlet found herself one morning waking up in Brine’s arms, and after that she found it the easiest thing in the world to drift asleep beside him.

Scarlet nodded minutely at her stepmother. “I know to be careful,” she said.

Arwen raised an elegant eyebrow. “Do you? My grandson has a history of hurting his family and leaving people behind. Including me. So you really, truly,mustbe careful.”

Scarlet was experienced enough to hide her suspicion over her stepmother’s apparent concern for her well-being from her face. Arwen had been easier on Scarlet over the last few weeks, and she had no idea why. Somehow Scarlet didn’t imagine it had anything to do with the fact she was married to her grandson.

The shrew was up to something. Scarlet just hadn’t worked out what it was.

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