Page 154 of Primal Bonds

“Jani?” He touched her cheek.

She jerked away and he took a step back. She released the switchblade and held it loose and ready at her side.

“I’m not here for that,” she said evenly. But inside she was trembling. She edged toward the doorway.

“Fair enough.”

But his arm came up, and she dropped into a fighting crouch. “Back off. Or I’ll take my chances out there.”

“Easy, love. I was just going to invite you to sit down.” He pointed to the easy chair. “Let’s have a conversation without all this snapping and snarling.”

She growled but retracted the switchblade, although she didn’t put it back in her pocket. “Okay. Fine.”

She needed to know more, and Fane seemed willing to help her. Shrugging out of the backpack, she sat down, the pack at her feet, the switchblade in her hand.

Fane hung his jacket in a small walk-in closet and indicated her backpack. “Want me to put that in the closet for you?”

“No.” She pulled it closer. If she had to leave in a hurry, the pack was coming with her.

His mouth curved. “You’re a prickly little hedgehog, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. You have a problem with that?”

He shrugged. “And yet I found you creeping along the outer wall with a horde of goblins after you.”

“They didn’t find me, did they?”

He shook his head. “By Hades, I can’t tell if you’re naïve or foolish.”

“Not naïve.” Her flat voice made him raise a brow.

“No, you’re not, are you?” Sympathy shaded his voice.

What did he know? Shame twisted in her belly. She scowled.

If this model-pretty man dared to pity her, she just might have to prick him with one of her blades. Not to hurt him—at least, not much—but to teach him that Marjani Savonett didn’t need anyone’s pity.

But all he said was, “This isn’t your world, Jani. You might not be naïve, but you don’t know how the ice fae court works.”

“Then tell me.”

He took two bottles of pale ale from a cooling unit and handed her one. “How about I start by telling you why you’re here?”

“I’m all ears.” Shoving the switchblade back into her pocket, she twisted off the cap and took a sip.

He sat on the wood chair—or rather, sprawled, his long legs stretched out, his bottle of ale in one long-fingered hand. “To spring the big black wolf fada from his cage.”

She jolted. “His cage?”

Chapter 7

Fane could practically see the gears whirring in Marjani’s intelligent brain.

Gods, she fascinated him from the top of her shaved head to the tips of her cute little toes. She was so serious, so determined. He wanted to tease her, see her unbend a bit. Make her smile. So far all he’d seen was that twitch of her lips in the pub when she’d tried not to be amused.

Someday, he vowed, he’d coax a true smile out of her…but today was not that day. He was genuinely worried about her. The woman had no idea what she’d walked into.

She recovered quickly. “What’s this wolf’s name?”

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