Page 15 of Of Wolves and Wives

6

Rose

My steps are slow as Pierce guides me through the palace halls and back toward my new room. Unlike in the gardens, he’s careful to keep his distance ... At my request.

And I hate myself for having asked it of him. I hate that I’d requested it out of fear of what the Grey Prince might do to him if we were caught.

Pierce glances over his shoulder at me, and I immediately ache to feel his arms around me again. Gritting my teeth together, I force my fingers not to reach for his as we draw near to my room and a familiar figure steps from the shadows just beyond the door.

“Rykker,” I breathe before I can stop myself.

His piercing eyes meet mine, giving me a small shake of his head before I can say anything else to him. Confused, I frown at him just as he lifts a silencing finger to his masked mouth and nods his head toward my room.

It’s only now that I realize the door is slightly ajar, and by the sound of things, there’s someone inside.

Fear clutches at my chest as I glance from Rykker to Pierce and then back to the door. I take a step toward it, but Pierce holds his hand out to stop me.

Signaling to Rykker, the two men move to either side of the door before Rykker pushes the door open. Almost immediately, he straightens and looks back at me, his eyebrow raised in question.

I motion for the men to stand down even as I’m still trying to process what I’m seeing.

Standing on the far side of the room, staring out of the balcony door … is Lyra.

Her fingers clutch the curtains as she pulls them aside to let more sunshine into the room. The light frames her, almost giving her a halo, as I step closer.

Vaguely, as I pass between them, I’m aware of Rykker and Pierce sharing a look before Pierce turns and disappears down the hall.

“Lyra?”

She turns toward me the moment her name falls from my lips, a smile on her face as she takes me in.

“Oh, Rose,” she exclaims, her smile growing as she crosses the room to fling her arms around me. “I was so worried about you.”

“Worried?” I ask as an excited squeal escapes her, surprising me nearly as much as the fact I’ve hugged her back.

“Of course! I’m just so happy to see you,” she gushes, pulling back to stare at me. “I thought you were dead, but then I heard the news and just couldn’t believe it. I had to come see for myself.”

“What news?”

“Of your pregnancy, silly. It’s all anyone is talking about. Is it true, then?”

“Is what true?”

Lyra’s smile falls slightly at this, but she forces it to brighten again as she rolls her eyes at my question.

“That you’re carrying the Grey Prince’s heir.”

Blinking, I take a step back from Lyra as wariness sets in. I don’t understand her excitement, or how to answer her question when even I don’t know the truth of it … or why she’s standing her smiling at me as if didn’t fight the last time we saw each other.

“I don’t know.”

“Oh,” Lyra says, her voice not quite as cheerful anymore. “So, there’s a chance it isn’t his, then?”

My head spins, my stomach twisting uncomfortably, as I settle onto the edge of the bed.

“Why are you here, Lyra?” I ask, unable to pretend like I know what’s going on anymore.

She tilts her head, looking at me with that stupid smile still plastered to her face as she shakes her head.

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