Page 46 of With Fangs and Claws (The Wolf Queen 1)

“It's a long time since I’ve been in Strelae,” Nordred said, responding to my pleading look. He patted my hand with a smile, and for a moment I thought he’d stay. “If sticking around would help you, I would, lass, but it won’t. One way or the other, you need to find your way through this and only you can decide how that’ll go. I’ll be down at the horse yards, taking a look at what passes for fine mounts these days. Strelan horses were always hardy but some of the ones I’ve seen recently… Seems like they’ve been interbreeding them with some of the Granian lines.”

“Looks like it's just you and us, lass,” Weyland said with a triumphant smile.

There was something so bloody inevitable about the four of them. Like they were planets and I was just a moon, having to be content to orbit around them. But that feeling of just sliding into something, without choice, without input from me? I resisted it with every breath, even as I remembered them bursting into Father’s rooms. They’d come for me, tried to save me when everyone else deserted me and yet… I got to my feet, needing to put some distance between me and them, or I knew exactly where I’d find myself.

“Or just you lot over there, and just me doing my own thing away from you,” I said, jerking myself to my feet, my readiness to flounce away ruined by the fact that I then had to stop and frown, considering whether anyone had paid the barkeep, as I realised that I had no money.

“We run a tab at the inn,” Gael explained. “You’re free to spend as you like here, but…” He took a bag heavy with coin off his belt and handed it to me.

“And what’s the cost of such generosity?” I asked, eyeing the bag warily.

He grabbed my hand and then slapped the bag into it, closing my fingers around it, then letting go before I could protest. I could still feel the shadow of his grip when he pulled away.

“Nothing.” He looked across the table at his brothers, his voice becoming a low growl. “No one will try to extort a thing from you.” Was that a promise or a directive to the others? When his dark blue eyes flicked back to me, I was forced to look away, unable to bear the intensity within his gaze, and when I did so, I caught the moment his little finger twitched, then strayed a small distance closer to me. “You are our mate. I accept that now and therefore you must be provided for.”

“So, you could spend your newfound riches,” Dane said, shooting me a slow smile when I glanced up at him. “Or you could come to the barracks on the edge of town.”

“Barracks?” I tried to smother the interest in my tone but failed utterly.

“Our father maintains a garrison in all of the border towns,” he explained. “Not a lot for the soldiers to do most of the time, so they find their own fun.”

“Fighting,” Axe said, thumping his chest, the chain mail on his armour jingling. “I need to release some energy after forgoing the pleasure of twisting your father’s head off.”

The others hissed as I went pale, my focus dropping to the remains of my bitter beer, but I raised the tankard to my lips and drained the rest of it. I felt a little light-headed, but I nodded to the four of them.

“Do women fight in these things?” I asked.

“Thinking of getting in the ring?” Weyland asked, staring at me steadily. “Not often. Most of the women this close to the border can’t shift, but we might be able to scare someone up if you want to have a scrap. Got some of your own energy to burn?”

Did I? I was still working that out, all of it. My skin felt too tight yet also airy and insubstantial when I stopped to think about it, so I vowed not to. I just shrugged and said, “We’ll see when we get there.”

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