Page 182 of Wolf Caged
“You seem to like it,” I said instead of the words that wanted to leave my lips, ones that would leave my exposed heart far too vulnerable, and ones I should not even be considering. I reminded myself that Saphira was a tool of vengeance. A tool.
Not a beautiful, bewitching wolf.
“It’s not every day a dark fae king gives you a dagger crafted by his own hands.” She toyed with it, her words warm with a teasing edge.
“I am not sure whether you are more pleased by the fact I gave you a dagger, a weapon you could easily wield against me, or that I made it for you.” I turned my cheek to her, taking in the view of the Shadow Court, easily able to pick out the blacksmith in Falkyr where I had made the dagger with her in mind.
“Probably the latter. Maybe the former.” She smiled at me when I glanced at her and shrugged. “I don’t know. I honestly never thought someone would give me a weapon, let alone the training to wield it.”
“Training you deserved, and training we shall resume when we return.” I looked at the dagger in her hand and wondered if she knew how precious it really was. “The blade is a smaller twin to the one I forged for myself centuries ago.”
I drew that blade from the sheath hanging from my waist, showing it to her, and her eyes darted over the grip and markings that matched her dagger.
“The metal used to make it is the same as my armour and crown, and Vyr’s weapon and armour too. It comes from thissacred mountain, and each ingot is blessed and reserved for royalty.”
She almost dropped the dagger, fumbling with it as her eyes clashed with mine.
“I don’t deserve something like this.” She tried to push it into my hands, shoving it against my chest when I refused to take it. “Give it to Vyr or someone special.”
I reached out and swept my knuckles across her cheek, my eyes locked with hers and my voice softer than I had heard it in a long time.
“There is none more deserving of it than you, Saphira.”
Chapter 49
SAPHIRA
Morden was here in Lucia, and he had my charm bracelet.
It could only mean one thing—my pack knew what had happened to me.
I kept glancing back over my shoulder as I followed Kaeleron along the narrow rocky track, heading down a steep incline towards a glittering sea of dark grey sand punctured by the twisted bleached bones of dead trees.
What was Malachi doing to Morden right now?
I wanted to ask Kaeleron that, but I had poked that bear enough times that whenever I so much as mentioned Morden’s name, he grew feral.
Near rabid.
Jealousy.
The same acidic feeling had scoured my insides whenever I had been around Elanaluvyr, so I could easily recognise it in him. He might pretend otherwise, might even be oblivious to the emotion that had him snapping fangs whenever I dared to even think of that male, blaming it on a need to protect his kingdom or some other bullshit, but he was jealous.
No doubt about it.
And it shouldn’t warm me, but by the gods and my ancestors it did.
Because it made me feel I wasn’t alone in my emotions, in my desires.
I toyed with the dagger sheathed at my hip, my gaze on Kaeleron’s back as he carefully navigated a particularly brutal stretch of the path, where the narrow worn track fell off into a sheer drop that would most likely kill me. It might kill Kaeleron too. I wasn’t sure if he could teleport yet or whether we were still within the bounds of the magical ward that protected his court.
One that had been breached in the west, allowing seelie into his lands.
I didn’t lead my pack, but I still grew as angry as my father whenever another wolf shifter crossed into our territory without permission.
When I looked back over my shoulder this time, it wasn’t the castle I was looking for, it was the mountain itself. The peak loomed above me like a great shard of obsidian. A sacred mountain. Kaeleron had called it that, and had said the metal mined from it was precious and rare, and reserved for royalty. This was the mountain I had read about in the library.
Some part of me still didn’t believe I deserved the dagger he had crafted for me, not now I knew the metal used in it came from such a rare source. I wasn’t royalty. Not even close. I was just the daughter of an alpha, fated to another alpha, raised to act not as his second in command but as his peacekeeper and baby maker.
