Page 90 of The Wolf

After his seventh challenge for the position of alpha, Brine flopped into a winged armchair in the study he had taken as his own, exhausted beyond words. The study had belonged to Scarlet’s father, left unused during his grandmother’s reign, and suited Brine far more than the study Arwen had used. It had been so long since Brine had been in the study that any and all ghosts of the past—of chasing Scarlet through the room, and she him—were easy to block out.

At least for now.

“Have you ever heard of this thing called sleep?” Pyre murmured from the window, concern plain as day in his voice. Brine was not at all surprised by his friend’s presence, nor that of the periwinkle-haired woman beside him.

Tempest smiled grimly when Brine nodded at her, shaking hair out of his face in the process. It was badly in need of a wash and a cut. “Mimkia can only go so far in healing your wounds,” she chastised. “So rest, Brine. Then you need to seeher.”

“No I don’t.” The words flew out of Brine’s mouth by instinct. Pack didn’t betray pack.

“Do not be a child, Brine, not when you literallyhavea child on the way. Go back to the cottage. You have to give Scarlet a second chance. Have you even given her an opportunity to explain what was going on?”

He shook his head. He felt too betrayed by what his grandmother had said. “The last thing I want is for her to spew pretty words of poison into my ear,” he admitted. “I can’t trust her. So how could I trust anything she says? Nothing is different now than it was before. Even the babe was a plot against me.”

Tempest crossed the room with three quick strides and slapped Brine across the face. He hissed at the unexpected attack and glared down at her.

“What the devil was that for?” he grumbled, rubbing his stinging cheek. “Just what did I do to deserve that?”

“Because you’re acting pathetic and I’m done tolerating it,” Tempest said with heat. She flung her arms wide to take in the entire study and the estate at large. “She was a prisoner here, Brine. Why can’t you see that? Do you really think she was working against you? Do you truly believe that every look, every touch, every moment between the two of you was false?”

Tempest glanced at Pyre, who stood from the window to join her. He interlaced their fingers together, then held up their joined hands to his lips to brush a kiss over Tempest’s knuckles. The Hound blushed prettily, then said, “If Pyre and I had acted the wayyou’reacting right now, we would never have ended up together. You have to give people a chance. Especially the ones you love.”

“She lied.”

“So did you. Did you tell her everything? Did you entrust her with all your secrets?”

No.

He hung his head.

“Go to her, my friend,” Pyre urged gently. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Brine knew they were correct. In truth, he had known the whole time but had been afraid. Afraid he was somehow wrong. Afraid that his instincts about Scarlet had been entirely off the mark even when they were children. But now that the words had been said to him, and he’d had common sense slapped—quite literally—back into him, Brine realized how foolish he’d been, waiting three days to see Scarlet. How cruel. She was doubtlessly terrified. Pregnant and alone, with him refusing to believe her. Refusing to listen to her.

“I’m a fool.”

“You are,” Tempest grouched. “But a loyal one. Go make peace with your wife.”

He all but ran from the study.

“Make sure you apologize and grovel, you wretch,” Pyre called after him, laughing.

His pulse thundered in his ears as he sprinted through the gardens out to the cottage.

Brine slowed as he reached the small porch and steadied himself. He’d never been good with words. Always too gruff and quick to anger. But now he needed to make amends.

He opened the door and stepped inside. His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room but she was nowhere to be found.

“Scarlet?” he called, striding into the bathroom.

She wasn’t there.

He moved back into the center of the room and spun in a circle. All of her things were still there. Brine inhaled deeply and a shiver of foreboding ran down his spine. Her scent was stale upon the air. She hadn’t been there in days.

Brine yanked open the front door and yelled, “Scarlet!”

No sweet, soft reply. Only silence.

Fear squeezed his heart, but he tamped it down. There was a logical explanation.

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