Page 7 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

“Darcy has not been presented at court,” he replied. “We are far from the capital here and she has grown up used to our rustic ways. I’m afraid she might not survive the cut-throat nature of court politics. My intention, when she’s ready, is to find a suitable man to take her on. That is harder to do than you might think, as she will not inherit the keep. It goes to her cousin, my brother’s son. My wife died young, trying to bear me a son, and I have not been blessed with an heir by any other woman.”

Not for want of trying. Father had made clear he would make any woman who could produce a son for him the duchess and, as a result, many of the ladies of the keep had made it their life’s mission to draw his eye. But it appeared the gods would only allow him the one child.

“She is the daughter of a duke, but landless, which makes it harder to find a man of the right calibre to marry her,” Father continued.

“Would a prince do?” Axe asked bluntly, and I watched both Weyland and Dane frown at that. He didn’t seem to care, looking me over with all the intent of a man with money at a horse fair. “She could be queen of all of Strelae.”

That wasn’t a guaranteed thing, something I knew, but Father didn’t. I had pestered Nordred with endless questions about the wargen when I was a child, until finally he set me down and told me what he knew. These men were the sons of the current Strelan king. They would be afforded all privilege and deference until such time as the ruling king stepped down.

Then they and all the other packs that thought to vie for the crown would come together to fight. Not in an open brawl, as was assumed in my country, but rather, the different packs would be set against each other in a series of structured bouts, fighting only until the dominance of one pack could be established over another and then they would move to the next round, until only one pack remained, just as the Wolf King had done with his brothers.

At Axe’s question, Father went perfectly still.

Linnea might aspire to me marrying one of the crown princes of Grania, but while Father enjoyed the title of duke, our forebears having earned the privilege for the work done many years ago defending the border between Strelae and Grania, we were a border duchy and therefore much less important than those closer to the capital and I was unlikely to be considered as a potential queen in the country of my birth.

But in Strelae…

The other wargen princes looked stiff and uncomfortable. This was not how a negotiation should take place. Men kept their cards close to their chest, yet Axe had laid all of his down on the table, showing his hand precipitously early. But was it a winning hand? My heart pumped viciously, forcing me to suck long, quiet breaths in through lungs that were slowly beginning to tighten.

I swallowed furiously, not wanting to have an attack here and shame my father, because the consequences would be dire, so I focussed on what Nordred had shown me to do. I went away from here, now seeing Arden and I running across the moors at full flight, his mane and mine streaming in the wind. Wind that filled my lungs, inflating them fully with each breath, allowing my air to come steadily and easily. When my breathing evened out, I blinked, coming abruptly back to the room, only to see Kris staring at me.

Normally, he wouldn’t have dared. To openly gaze at me under my father’s eye was ridiculously dangerous. Kris could have his knighthood stripped from him or he could be sent home to his family’s estate in disgrace, or worse. And yet he stared, those deep brown eyes burning almost as intensely as the blue eyes of the wargen sitting around the table.

“My daughter, the queen of all Strelae?” My father chuckled at that, making it appear to be a genial response, providing Dane or one of the others the opportunity to laugh off the idea as well, allowing them to dismiss it as a non-serious offer in a way that allowed everyone to save face.

“If you doubt the seriousness of our offer, Your Grace,” Dane said, with a slightly rueful edge to his tone, “don’t. Access to Strelan iron ore in return for your daughter’s hand.”

Did the wargen hear my father sucking his breath in, gasping at the idea of it? Obviously, the king had requested he strike a bargain to allow trade of the ore to flow more freely. Grania had rich lands that produced enormous amounts of grains and other crops, but our ore deposits were few and far between. When the Strelans had been forced to fall back and allow our ancestors a space on this land, they did so only to where the rich mineral deposits were, allowing them to still produce more high-quality steel weapons.

The situation would almost have been enough to turn the war in the wargen’s favour if we had not received aid from the mother country. Grania was an offshoot of the great Farradorian empire and when it demonstrated it was willing to devote much of its resources to claiming this land, with the threat of further inroads into Strelan territory, a peace had been brokered.

I watched Father’s fingers follow the intricate patterns engraved into his pewter goblet, the silence feeling like it stretched on and on. This was unorthodox. Father had to be thinking about what else he could wring from the wargen if they had their hearts so set on me.

And what did I think?

I frequently did reckless, silly things, ones which earned me the sharp end of Lady Linnea’s tongue. The worst brought me a beating from my father, his leather crop or a birch branch lashing my back. But nothing I’d endured before had prepared me for this. The idea of leaving the keep with anyone other than Kris was so completely alien it took my breath away and not in the terrible, crushing way an attack did. No, this was just… too hard for my brain to accept.

Father would say yes. He had been holding me in reserve, not bothering with presenting me to court because I was but his single coin to spend, and he guarded that jealously. I’d been brought to balls at neighbouring estates, forced into the company of some of the other odious borderland lords for them to inspect, but none had produced sufficient an enticement for Father to hand me over. That ended now. His eyes shone, a small smile forming on his face, before he leaned forward and offered his hand.

“The details need to be hammered out but…” Dane leaned forward and they clasped each other’s forearms in the way wargen customarily shook hands. “I believe we can find a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Father turned to me now, the footnote in this whole conversation. I stared up at him dutifully, barely able to keep my face from showing my shock. This day had always been coming but to find myself here? And with them? My breath stuttered in my chest, Father frowning as he heard the first whoop.

Axe rose to his feet, frowning as he stared down at me, then moving as if to come to my side.

“Lady Linnea,” Father said sharply, “I believe that Darcy is overwhelmed by the generosity of this offer. This has all come as a shock to both of us, Darcy, but you will have time to spend with your affianced, once the contracts have been signed.”

“But she—” Axe began to say but Linnea swept over, gripping me hard by the shoulders and snatching up the circlet, as if the wargen would steal the bloody thing, before dragging me from the hall. Kris got to his feet as I went but I refused to meet his eyes.

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