Page 86 of The Wolf Queen

“And how do you know that?” I asked, eyes narrowing. “Do you possess the ability to read minds and haven’t told me about it yet?”

“It’s the same thing that any commander thinks on the eve of a battle,” he told me, drawing closer. I stood tall on the parapets, my sword at my hip, my quiver strapped across my back, my bow over one arm, but when he wrapped his arm around me, I felt myself sinking into his side. “Will I be enough?”

“You know everything,” I said in a slightly querulous voice. “Will I?”

“We’ve done everything we can, Darcy.”

That was true. We’d rounded up every single person around the keep, stuffing the Snowmere refugees, the remains of the Strelan army and all of the local people I’d grown up around into the keep walls. Cattle, sheep, chickens and barrels of grains and root vegetables were brought as well, just in case this turned into a siege. Then once that was complete we’d started the process of preparing for the Reaver attack. It was the fact that was all complete that had me standing here. There was nothing more to do other than wait.

Dane squeezed my arm. “We’ll have to be. The gods are on our sides.”

But what of the goddess? I stared out into the sky, seeing a lone black bird flying in the sky. Was it a crow or a raven? I didn’t know, so I waited.

They came through the trees and across the plains like a pack of dogs, dark creatures that moved and kept on moving with mechanical efficiency. I floated above them, getting a bird’s eye view of the Reaver force. Literally, it appeared, my beak moving, a harsh caw expelled from my throat. And he looked up, the only creature wearing a human face in this dreadful host, but he was the most bestial. Those keen eyes of his sought me out, then smiled as he watched me pass, right before I jerked awake.

“You fell asleep.” Gael was sitting beside me now on the parapets, the cold of the stone transmuted by the thick blanket he’d tucked around me. “You know there’s a perfectly good bed downstairs.”

We’d requisitioned my father’s marital bed, the massive expanse the only bed big enough for all of us. The chamber maids had heard my requests, then set to work, stripping the bed, the room of everything that belonged to my father. He sat in a small room now, kept fed and cleaned, but little else, just as he had me.

“The fight will be here,” I said, pushing aside the blanket and then getting up to stand against the stone crenelations as I stared out into the fields. “Tonight, I can feel it.”

Gael groaned as he got up, obviously stiff and sore for sitting on the stone for so long, but there was something soft in him as he drew me into his arms.

“And we’ll be ready for him, lass. I’m done with that bastard taking everything I love.” I shivered at that, memories, too many memories rising at his words. “We’ll take him down, use this king of yours you roped into the cause and then… Callum died once but he didn’t have the good sense to stay dead. We’ll correct that error tonight, I’m sure of it. Now, you might want to see to that pet Granian of yours. The moon? it’s making him shifty.”

I walked into the bedroom we’d claimed to see Bryson pacing back and forth, back and forth across the flagstones. Weyland and Axe eyed him warily.

“Have a drink, lad,” Axe suggested, holding out a drinking horn.

“No!” Bryson blinked, then dropped his head. “I apologise, but… I need all my wits, not to dull… this.”

And this was the black smoke that was curling up off his skin in longer, more twisting plumes. That’s what kept my other mates back, the whites of their eyes showing.

“Bryson.”

I moved across the floor despite the others’ murmurs of concern, feeling the trail of his smoke across my skin like a series of cool caresses. It helped dispel the fog of sleep, make my mind sharp, so when I touched his bare chest, I felt all of it. The satin of his skin, the shift and flex of his muscles, the quivering tension that as soon as I touched him, settled. He pulled me close, wrapping his arms, his smoke around me, which had Gael clearing his throat abruptly, but he didn’t know. I closed my eyes, resting my head against my newest mate’s chest and felt completely safe.

“You are in control, not the beast,” I told him. “Your power is pushing at you.”

“Always does closer to the full moon,” he said through gritted teeth. “I used to have to excuse myself from court events in the days leading up to it, pleading a sick headache, an absence my brother exploited. I’d lock myself in my room and try and wait it out.”

I grabbed him tighter then, hearing the pain, the loneliness there and he hugged me right back.

“You have no idea how good it feels to touch you right now.” He barely whispered that, but I heard it. “When I do, I feel more in control, that the power isn’t trying to fight free of me.”

“Then you should do so until the full moon passes.” I leaned back to stare into his eyes. “As much as you need to.” I smiled. “And even when the moon wanes.”

“Darcy!”

“Gods, why do children wake so bloody early?” Axe groaned, going to the door and letting the children in, Jan rushing forward, even as Del froze in the doorway.

“No, Jan,” he growled, leaping forward to grab her arm and stopping her from rushing towards me. “No!”

It felt like I moved all too slowly. I could let Bryson’s power touch me, but nothing and no one else could say the same and survive. I pulled free of Bryson’s grip, throwing my body forward, but Jan had done the same. She jumped into my arms every morning, so why would this be any different?

But things had changed.

I’d explained about the shift in my relationship with Bryson and Jan had just smiled, telling him that she expected a very grand palace of her own when she was grown, even as Del eyed him warily. He didn’t seem to hear anything but our warnings about Bryson’s power.

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