Page 45 of Elven Throne

“I will do what I can to mitigate the risks,” he growled, his voice darkened by the rumbling in his chest like a falling boulder. “It’s been long enough. There may be a small chance to argue for a slight bend in the rules.”

That wasn’t an answer at all.

Why was he deflecting?

What the hell was going on?

He tried to walk away, moving past her like he’d done so many other times before.

But Rebecca didn’t buy any of it. Something was seriously wrong.

She caught him by the arm before he could slip away and hauled him back toward her with a hiss.

But physically forcing the shifter to do anything, even to stop and turn back toward her, was like trying to lift a car with her pinky.

He stopped but still wouldn’t look at her.

“Hannigan,” she snarled, “we’ve definitely crossedaline together, but this isnotthe kind of irrational and incredibly stupid I was talking about. Something’s wrong.”

Maxwell’s spine grew rigid, muscles tightening in response, his silver eyes blazing.

For a moment, she thought he really would tear away from her and just keep walking. That he would ignore all the small agreements they’d made to be honest with each other wherever and whenever they could.

For a moment, Rebecca thought everything between her and the shifter was over, despite the electrifying tingle racing up her arm and into her chest as she tightened her grip on his arm—the irresistible urge to pull him closer while the heavy, ominous weight of whatever burden he carried flowed from him and into her.

A second later, all the fight and effort to resist bled out of him with his next heavy sigh, and he turned toward her with a desperate hopelessness flaring in those silver eyes. “Where we are going, Shade will be safe. So will you.”

Rebecca finally pulled her hand away from his arm, searching his glowing gaze for another hint of whatever he was clearly so intent on avoiding.

“That’s not what I asked,” she said, trying to keep her voice low despite the panic rising in her and mixing with his roiling emotions. “I need you to give me a straight answer. Shade will be safe. I’ll be safe. Great. But what about you? What aren’t you telling me?”

The pain in his flashing eyes betrayed his attempts to hide it with another deep growl that didn’t quite reach the same level of violent warning as usual.

But he dipped his head toward her and muttered, “As far as I’m concerned, ‘death sentence’ is likely the most accurate description.”

13

“‘Deathsentence’islikelythe most accurate description.”

Since the moment Maxwell had uttered those words, the tight, heavy knot curdling in Rebecca’s stomach, clawing at her reserves of courage and determination, had only worsened.

She couldn’t stop worrying about what he’d meant by it, and he’d refused to tell her any more than that.

Based on what little information she had beyond the shifter’s immense discomfort and secrecy, the best conclusion she could draw was that they were all walking into some kind of trap again.

It didn’t matter how convinced Maxwell seemed to be that this was their only choice to help all of Shade, while also seeming equally convinced that where they were headed would destroy him.

The looming sensation of danger and misfortune followed Rebecca like a disease.

Even now, at their new destination, it remained.

Everything about where Shade was now formed an alarmingly stark contrast to the ominous warning burrowing through Rebecca’s core.

The shifter had led them out of Chicago and southwest to the small, remote town of Sparta, Illinois. Rebecca had never had reason to stray this far from the city since first arriving in Chicago, but this felt like an entirely different world.

No skyscrapers. No closely packed buildings. No cars lining the city streets full of lights and life and bustling activity.

Instead, they were surrounded by open swatches of sprawling farmland. Incredible, lush greenery everywhere she looked. Slippery elms amidst enormous white oaks stretching their old, twisted branches toward the sky, while weeping willows formed green tents of shade where their drooping bows kissed the ground.

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