Page 42 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

He answered by closing the gap between us, his body pressing mine into Arden’s stall, his hands going to my wrists.

“No, I can’t do that. You’d have argued, complained or wanted to pull away. It’s not in you to want to make a scene in front of the court.”

“I was wondering when the old Dane would make an appearance,” Weyland said with a grin. “Now the gloss is off the lily, you get to see what a manipulative, pushy bastard he really is.”

I jerked my wrists free then used my hands to shove Dane away, something that just made him smile.

“So nothing I say matters?” I snapped.

“Everything matters,” he replied in a much softer tone. “But Weyland is right. My eye is always on the prize and now, you know what that is. I won’t stop.” His eyes bore into mine, not blinking for a second. “Not until you have everything and you’re sitting on the throne.”

“And you’re the queenmaker, lurking behind it?” I asked, tilting my head to one side to get a better look at him.

“There’ll be no lurking,” he replied with a shake of his head, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll be standing by your side, sword at the ready, with the rest of my brothers.”

I was greeted by a chorus of grunts at that, the men clustering closer at Dane’s pronouncements, and for just a second, I couldn’t feel the stables or smell the horseshit around us. Instead, we were transported somewhere else, somewhere so completely different my mind failed to imagine it fully. I just felt that heavy weight on my head again, right before I shook it.

“So we’ve made a spectacle of ourselves, made it so the king can’t ignore the Reaver problem,” I said. “Now what?”

“I can take care of this part, lass,” Axe said with a wide grin. “It’s something I specialise in.” The others groaned, which had my eyebrows jerking up but he forged on. “We get so heinously fucking drunk they have to carry us back to the citadel in a handcart.”

I just snorted, then shook my head, even while realising the idea had a curious appeal.

“I think a long bath and some sleep would be a much better option if we’re to play with Father’s pit of vipers in the morning,” Dane said.

I grinned then, stepping away from him and into his brother’s arms, Axe chuckling as he pulled me closer.

“Take me to the pub, Axe,” I said, smirking at Dane. “Let’s get pissed.”

22

“Gods, why does beer have to taste like shit?” I asked, as I took a big mouthful from my tankard.

“Try this then, love,” Weyland said, pushing a much smaller glass my way brimming with a dark liquid.

“Whiskey? Dear gods, get this woman some food to line her stomach with before you start her on hard spirits,” Dane said.

I eyed the glass. Father loved the stuff but never let me touch it, saying it was no fit drink for a woman. I grabbed it and then sniffed it experimentally.

“It won’t bite you,” Weyland said with a slow smile. “That’s for me to do later. But if it’s too strong…”

I heard his mocking tone, my brows pulling down in a scowl, right before I tipped my head back and downed the contents in one mouthful.

Oh, gods… I tried to croak out something, anything, feeling the harsh burn flare hot inside me, transforming my reply into a frantic little squeak. But apparently this was hysterical, the men at the table chortling in response and others nearby turning around to join in. A heavy hand slapped down between my shoulder blades, forcing a barking cough out and with that, the warmth dropped down lower, setting my stomach afire.

“What the hell…?” I finally squeaked out, my hands slapping down on my abdomen.

“It’s got a bite to it, but once you get used to it, you come to crave its fangs in your skin,” Weyland said, holding up his own glass before downing it, then pouring more for the lot of us.

I eyed the glass suspiciously, scarcely able to credit his words, and Dane noted this.

“You don’t have to, lass. Whiskey’s a bastard of a drink.”

“Let me guess,” I replied, shooting him a dark look. “This advice is ‘for my own good’. Don’t queens drink whiskey?”

“Now you’ve done it,” Gael muttered, then winked at me. “Drink what you like, love. I’ll hold your hair back when you end up vomiting.”

And at that romantic declaration, how could I resist? Cheers went up around the table as I knocked back the shot, the burn nowhere near as harsh the second time around.

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