Page 32 of Of Wolves and Wives

The women continue through the gardens, Lyra seeming to lead Rose on an endless circle. I'm impressed that her voice has yet to crack as she continues to give dull commentary on her day. Of how the things she’s enjoyed at the castle and what she’s bored with. Occasionally, Rose will glance at me. We will share a smile over the idiotic things Lyra is sprouting, or she will roll her eyes at me.

Each time our eyes meet, I feel a tug in my chest. Our bond tightens. She’s the one that I want. Only her for the rest of my life. For the first time, I want to lay everything else to the side and create a family with her. The one thing I’ve never had nor ever been interested in until she showed me what I was missing. I never thought I’d be fortunate enough to be at a point where I could dream of such a thing. Families were not things for men like me.

Then it hits me. I have a family. With her and my brothers in arms. We are a family. They are the souls I would bare all for, who I would lay down my life for. A warmth moves through me as I realize this. I’m more fortunate than I ever thought I would be. Thanks to her. And Heath and Rykker. Even the babe that she carries, for it really matters little who fathered it. I will do everything in my power to ensure it is raised to know love and hope.

“Though, I haven’t seen my husband in days,” Lyra comments. “Not that it matters. The prince has showered me with attention and affection, so it’s hard to feel lonely. Or worry about where my husband has gone to.”

My eyes snap to Lyra as I process her words, thoughts of family and the future momentarily forgotten.

17

Rose

My eyes land on a small door carved into the garden wall. The sunlight hits it just right. Otherwise, I wouldn’t even know it’s there. It pulls my attention despite Lyra at my side and Peirce behind us. I want to step closer to it to see if it might offer me the escape that I need from this place.

I’m only half-listening to Lyra as she speaks, but I’m startled away from thoughts of escape at her words. Blinking, I glance at her. Her face is tilted up toward the sun, and for just a moment, I could almost forget that she’s become the enemy. That she’s only here to spy on me.

“Your husband has disappeared?” I ask.

Lyra blinks twice at the clouds before glancing at me. She chews her lip as though realizing she’s said too much. How is it that she doesn’t understand the meaning of her mate disappearing?

“It’s nothing,” Lyra quickly tells me. “I’m sure he’s just been sent on patrol.”

“But how long has it been? I imagine that with a human mate, the court would prioritize him being able to produce an heir.”

Lyra frowns before shaking her head, “The days just feel long with him gone, that’s all. So, it feels as though he’s been gone longer than he truly has been.”

Her eyes move away from my face, and I know she’s lying. For a moment, I consider letting it go. But something about the way her husband has disappeared doesn’t sit right with me. Her sudden quiet makes me even more suspicious of what is going on.

“It must be hard,” I comment. “Having your husband gone.”

“Hm.”

“I would be beside myself without my men nearby to protect me.”

Lyra glances at me, “I don’t need him to protect me. I’m perfectly safe here. But I’d rather not keep talking about such things.”

“You must be so torn up with him disappearing without any word.”

“Rose,” she hisses in warning.

“I know I would be torn apart by worry and concern for my husband. For the one that I was kindly given to by the prince.”

Her eyes narrow as she moves toward me, anger flushing her face a light pink. I’m surprised at the sudden change in her. It distracts me from the hand she raises to strike me. Before her hit lands, though, Peirce steps in. He catches her hand.

“That is enough,” he says.

Lyra spins on him, her hand connecting with his chest before her eyes land back on me. Her anger is easy to ignore as I watch Peirce. She tenses as she prepares to twist from him and attack me for daring to ask many questions. Realizing her intentions, his anger twists his face. In a blink, his body starts to shift. It’s not a full shift. Only his upper half becomes that of a wolf. His face elongating into a snout with sharp teeth snapping at Lyra. She lets out a terrified shriek as she tries to stumble away from him. But it’s too late. In her attempt to put distance between herself and him, she’s scratched.

For a moment, nothing happens. The three of us stare at the line of blood on her arm. Then, she lets out an ear-shattering screech as she shoves Peirce away from her. He moves away, putting more than enough distance between them before he shifts back. His face is ashen as he stares at her.

I move toward her, terrified by the blood that has begun to trickle down her arm. Tears pour down her cheeks as she clutches at her arm. It takes a moment for me to be sure that the cut isn’t deep and definitely isn’t deadly. Though, the blood that has now stained her dress makes it look much worse.

“Lyra,” I say, moving to lay a hand on her shoulder.

She flinches away from me, her lips trembling as she glances at me. A sob breaks free from her as she collapses to her knees. I let out a sigh at her dramatics, knowing that this will only lead to something worse than it needs to be. If I’m unable to calm her before we return to my room, I don’t want to think of what she’ll say.

“It’s a small cut. I can have it cleaned up in no time,” I tell her.

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