Page 82 of The Wolf

She said nothing.

He frowned. “Is it your menses?”

Scarlet glared over her shoulder and he held his hands up, inhaling slowly. No blood.

“Stop scenting me!”

He huffed. “I wouldn’t have to smell you if you’d tell me what’s on your bloody mind.”

She twisted and looked Brine in the eye. It was then that Brine realized she didn’tneedto answer this question. Not out loud, at least. Her rage bled away, leaving empty eyes. It told him everything he needed to know.

Even now, Scarlet held too many secrets she wasn’t willing to share.

“Fine,” he said, rolling out of bed and yanking on his trousers, then his shirt and his boots. “If you wish to speak to me when I’m back, I’ll be all yours.”

His wife did not attempt to stop him as he left the cottage, slamming the door behind him. He thundered through the forest, a fierce anger bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. He hated feeling this way, especially in relation to Scarlet. Why was it, with every step he took forward with her, he ended up a mile back?

Don’t think about it, Brine repeated to himself, knowing such a mantra was impossible to follow. But he was meeting Pyre and Damien tonight, so Brine schooled his expression, shook out his shoulders, and continued through the thick, midnight-black undergrowth of the woods until, finally, he came across the chosen clearing. His friends were sitting beneath a pine tree, swigging from fire whiskey and murmuring to each other in conspiratorial tones.

Pyre looked up in surprise when his fox ears picked at the sound of Brine’s arrival, moments before the wolf himself came into view. “You’re early,” he said in disbelief. “Shockingly so. Something wrong in the marital bed already?”

Brine wanted to slap the smarmy grin off the fox’s face, but he resisted. That was what Pyre wanted after all, a reaction. “I had nothing better to do,” he said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why did you need to meet tonight anyway?”

It was Damien who answered: “You’ll be happy to know that your feline best friend has seized another of your grandmother’s trade ships,” the dragon said, sounding impressed despite himself. For whatever reason, Damien and Chesh had immediately liked each other, even though both of them were difficult men to understand. Brine figured it had something to do with the cat’s rakish, daredevil attitude and complete lack of danger awareness.

But Brine hadn’t traveled an hour through the woods to ponder his increasing circle of friends. “That’s good news,” Brine said, trying to piece together where the conversation was heading. “What do you need me to do now?”

Pyre got to his feet. “News will travel fast that Old Mother’s ships have been seized. As soon as she’s aware of what’s going on, our window of opportunity to close in on her will be gone. You need to take your grandmother out … tonight.”

Tonight?

Brine couldn’t fathomtonight. Tonight was right now. Tonight wasn’t the future.

But he had come to Betraz with a job to do. He had not come here to find a mate and wed and pretend that everything was all right when everything was very much the opposite.

He steeled his nerves and nodded. “Tonight it is.”

FORTY-TWO

SCARLET

Usually Scarlet would not appreciate being roused from her own bed—especially not when she’d been able to fall into an early sleep—but tonight she was grateful for the distraction. For Brine had not returned after he stormed out, and Scarlet didn’t know what to do about it.

Should she confront him about what she’d heard in Callmai? Or should she remain silent and see if he would tell her about it himself?

Not for the first time, Scarlet had to admit that she didn’t know what to do.

What shediddo was answer her stepmother’s call to help her get ready for bed when the summons arrived. Very late, as usual, the woman having no doubt entertained a small party of guests until the middle of the night. It was her usual way of spending an evening, so Scarlet was used to being awoken to help her.

Even if she hated it.

Tonight, though, she was almost grateful for the work. . At least aiding Lady Betraz in getting ready for bed would likely tire Scarlet out and allow her to fall, mentally exhausted, into her own bed once her stepmother no longer required her help.

She slogged her way through the manor, heavy of heart.

Arwen was uncharacteristically quiet when Scarlet came upon her chambers. It was unnerving. Immediately, it put her on edge. What was she up to?

Her stepmother having secrets was never a good thing.

---