Page 41 of The Wolf Queen

As my muscles flexed, to do what I didn’t know, Pepin ran forward, collecting the child and tossing it to the mother before dragging them into the cave, flicking her hand up to seal the cave behind her. A jolt went through the four of us standing together in the cave in Grania, because the rock closed up, locking the villagers away as if they had never been there. The sound of the Reaver’s howls were now muffled. Everyone shrank back in the now dark cave, the shocked silence becoming filled with muttering that became louder and louder as people voiced their uncertainty. Then, blue light flickered to life in the crystals and small sounds of wonder replaced those of fear.

“You are safe here,” Pepin said and I caught the moment she forced herself to smile gently at them. “Within the goddess’ embrace, no Reaver will touch you.”

“But we can’t stay in a bloody cave for the rest of our lives,” a man snapped. “There’s barely room to swing a cat as it is.”

“No,” Pepin replied with a nod. “This is just a waypoint.” Then she twisted her hand as she pointed to one of the walls, and that’s when something happened that I fought to understand. Where there had been crystals, now there was a swirling portal. Sounds of consternation filled the cave. “I have a safe house through this portal. There are others like you there. It’s far from Snowmere, near the border between Strelae and Grania. You’ll find food, shelter…”

My heart pounded so loud in my ears I couldn’t hear what else she had to say. People were easily convinced by Pepin, because what choice did they have? Some still wept for lost loved ones, others helped the injured step through the portal, as outside the Reavers raged. Some threw themselves at the rock, others raked claws across its impervious surface, howling in frustration at being denied their prey, while Pepin made sure every person stepped through safely. Finally, she did so herself, sealing the portal and leaving an empty cave behind.

“They’rea means to travel around the country,” I whispered. “We could travel vast distances if we could work out how to use them.”

For purposes quite different to Pepin’s. I was glad she was doing the good work of saving people from the ravages of the Reavers, but that wasn’t my destiny.

I heard my heartbeat and theirs throb in time, reminding me of the last time I’d had another’s heart thudding so close to me.

Callum’s.

Without him, the Reavers would lose their power. When he’d been injured on the battlefield at Ironhaven, the Reavers with him had dropped like stones. We could work to save everyone in a scattered effort, or we could cut the snake off at the head. Selene seemed to think this power was at my beck and call, so I pushed it now.

“Show me him,” I said, staring blindly into the blue crystals of our cave. “Show me Callum.”

The visionof Pepin fragmented slowly, as if torn apart and what replaced it appeared in small flickers before a more complete vision appeared. Callum was lying on the king’s bed, the black sheets rumpled now, as two of his Reavers hauled forth his prize. The girl whimpered, fought against their grip, her whole body bucking and twisting when she saw who she’d been brought to.

“She’s the closest we can find, Majesty,” the Reaver growled, throwing the girl down onto the floor.

And that’s when I realised why this girl had been chosen.

Her light brown hair, her blue eyes, were not remarkable in any way, but neither was my own face. She scrambled to her feet, looking around her wildly, then grabbed a tiny knife from her belt, wielding it with shaky hands.

“Mm… she’ll do—for now,” Callum said, rising from the bed.

For a man who’d died hundreds of years ago, he was in remarkably good condition. The only thing that marred the tall, muscular body was the wounds I’d left on his body.

Bleed, I urged them. The priests had always gone on and on about Strelan dark magics, using blood to hurt or kill others.Open and let him bleed out.

I tried to see it in my mind, the stitches springing open, the lips of the wounds parting, blood trickling down his sides, then gushing. I imagined his hands slapping down on the injuries, trying to keep his life blood in, but they didn’t. Instead I heard the far-off snicker of the Morrigan as he stepped closer.

“Pretty girl.” He quickly disarmed her, tossing the knife away and then jerked her closer as she let out a little sound of distress.

“We need to save her,” I ground out, every muscle locked down tight. “If Pepin can step through a portal, we can too. We could storm the castle—”

“You’ll be mine, won’t you?” Callum’s voice was a feline purr as his hand went to her hair. “You’ll warm my bed and sit by my side as my queen?”

I marvelled at his ability to ask her such things, because every inch of the woman screamed resistance. Her lips were pulled back to reveal her teeth and her whole body trembled with revulsion, right as her eyes blazed blue.

“Never, you fucking bast—”

Whatever plan I had, it died a quick death, just like she did. The snap of her neck seemed far too small a thing to herald the end of someone’s life. I sucked a breath in as she fell to the floor, my eyes burning as I stared. He dropped her like a doll, just like that tiny scrap of fabric I’d found at Wildeford, then shoved her body with the toe of his boot.

“Remove this,” he ordered, “and find me another. One that’s more willing, this time.”

“Of course, Majesty, but…”

“What is it?” Callum’s eyes narrowed as he stared at his Reaver.

“The attack on Bayard is to take place tomorrow,” he replied, obviously reluctant to bother his lord. “We wanted to discuss strategy.”

“Strategy?” Callum snickered, then stepped over the dead girl to draw closer to the beast. “It’s the same as it always is, my dear Rorick. Swarm over the hills around it and sweep into the town, causing as much death and destruction as possible. We do this in the Morrigan’s name. Every scream is a prayer to her might; every drop of blood, her sacrament. There is no strategy other than to bring glory to her name.”

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