Page 115 of The Wolfing Hour
A heartbeat later, a human-sized, blanket-wrapped bundle appeared in the center of the bed Miles/Gnath had reclined on only moments before. The bundle wasn’t moving.
“You said she was alive.” I could barely form the words. “Was that another lie?”
“The young woman is unharmed and unaware,” he said. “Her father and his wolves had drugged her, bound her in silver chains sleeved in canvas too thin to protect her skin from burning. They mistreated her badly. I saved her life.”
She looked so small and defenseless. I wanted to run to her side and gather her in my arms. Stand between her and Sexton. Protect her with my life.
No. My demon side broke into my thoughts.Stay where you are. It will not change the outcome, and the cemetery demon needs to see you stand your ground. Thank him for his care with her and continue as if she were not there.
“Thank you for your care with her.” I bit the words out.
“You are welcome. I know the young woman is important to you.”
Godsdamn him. Everything he’d done had been a manipulation. Right from the very beginning. It killed me to look into his eyes, knowing his brain contained so much information I needed and would never have, because I couldn’t trust a damned word he said.
“Lord Bertrand Sexton, I respectfully ask you to leave.”I forced power into my voice—earth magic, demon, and my own strength—but that didn’t mean it was steady. It was drenched in anger and sorrow and deep, aching hurt. “Or I’ll cast you into the void as I did with your minion.”
Grotesque laughter exploded into the room, bringing with it a fiery heat I hadn’t thought Sexton capable of. I was equal parts repulsed and impressed. The son of a bastard would always have the upper hand, and he knew it. He was still playing me, even now.
One didn’t survive thousands of years in Hades by being a saint.
“I am pleased with you, granddaughter. Well pleased, indeed. Like your father before you, you will make a fine guardian.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
The next thing I did was wake Rory.
Fennel and Cecil awaited us outside the door, and we all went home together to surprise Ronan. He wouldn’t have to worry anymore. He could face his father at the convocation as planned. And we all lived happily ever after.
Ha ha haha haHA.
Yeah.
None of that happened.
Sexton disappeared, not even bothering to make it look natural. He just smiled infuriatingly at me and was gone.
I grabbed my cell and sent another text to Ronan and one to Ida then dropped onto the gross motel room bed beside Aurora and peeled back the blanket. She was indeed alive and breathing. Her pretty brown skin was pale and clammy, her short, cropped black hair damp with sweat. There were burn marks on her arms, but Sexton had removed the chains, and they were slowly healing. If she shifted, she’d heal faster.
Rory blinked. She cocked her head and peered up at me. After a second or two, recognition set in, and she smiled.
“Cuñada,” she said.
I was honored that after the betrayal she’d experienced, her first instinct was to believe that I was there to help instead of hurt. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I wiped them away.
“Your brother is going to be so happy to see you,” I said.
She smiled, but I could see the wheels turning, see the moment it all came forcibly back to her. “Ronan.” The blanket wriggled as she attempted to shimmy out of it. “He’s in danger. Dad’s lost his mind.” Her voice hovered on the edge of panic. “Betty, you don’t know what he’s done.”
“I do know, and I’m sorry.”
“It’s so much worse than I suspected. I overheard his wolves talking about my m-mom—” Her voice cut out on a sob.
“I’m sorry.” I untucked the edge and helped her roll free.
