Page 22 of A Reign of Malice (Wolves of Lunara #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY

SLOANE

I don’t know what time it is, but all sense of caring went out the window about ten shots ago. Estee, Isla, and I creep into the hallway. Well, we attempt to. What we’re really doing is giggling our asses off for no apparent reason, pretending we’re being super sneaky while failing miserably.

“I have to pee,” Isla whisper-yells, swaying slightly as she grips the wall for balance.

I point dramatically at a decorative vase overflowing with flowers. “Lift a leg. No one will even notice.”

Estee collapses onto the floor, gasping for air, her hands clutching her stomach. There’s barely any actual sound coming from her, which only makes it funnier. Either she’s trying to be silent, or she’s literally choking on my comedic brilliance. Both options are equally plausible.

Somehow, I end up sprawled next to her, laughing so hard my ribs ache, and tears blur my vision. It only gets better when Isla actually gathers the hem of her dress, crouching as if she’s really about to water the poor flowers.

“What the hell are the three of you doing?” Clara’s pointed voice cuts through the drunken haze, a shrill beacon of disapproval. Her footsteps echo down the hallway. “I leave you alone for one night, and you turn into feral pups. Gods, what a mess.”

“Someone’s in trouble,” Estee whisper-shouts at me, her wide eyes far too innocent to be believable.

“You’re all in trouble,” Clara corrects, marching straight to me, wrapping an arm around my waist, and hauling me upright. “You need to get back to your room before someone—anyone—sees this disaster.”

I shake my head vigorously, like a petulant child, and step away from her. “Nooo. I have to show my new besties how I spirit-walk!”

“How you what ?” Clara’s nostrils flare. “You’re useless right now. All of you. Completely useless and drunk off your asses.” She turns to Isla, crossing her arms so tight I’m surprised her ribs don’t snap. “At least I don’t have to clean that up.”

Isla turns around and waves her hand over the puddle of pee she’s left behind then grins back at Clara. “Clean what up? There’s nothing to see here. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Estee and I snicker, the puddle behind Isla still clear as day.

“Right.” Clara reaches for me. “Let’s get you three disasters to bed before you start a war or burn the castle down.”

But I dodge her hand and do my best to run a few feet ahead. “I’m going to see my maaaate.”

The announcement echoes loudly, full of drunken conviction and zero sense of self-preservation. My ability to stay balanced, however, is nowhere to be found. My feet betray me, and the floor comes rushing up, my skirt tangling around my legs as my crown tilts sideways .

Before I can even process the impact, Estee launches herself on top of me with a wild shriek. “I’ve got you, Beastie!”

“Don’t forget me!” Isla war-cries then, as expected, lands directly on top of us, sending all three of us into a tangled pile of limbs and drunken giggles.

Clara stands over us, foot tapping with enough force to chip the stone floor. “You’re all going to regret this in the morning.”

I grin up at her, eyes heavy with mischief. “Not if I sleep until noon.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Impossible. Absolutely impossible.”

We clumsily untangle ourselves, a process that takes far longer than it should, but eventually, we manage to find our feet again. Mostly.

“Come on, Clara,” I croon, stretching her name out into a slurred song. “Come with us. Have some fun.”

She watches the three of us swaying into each other like a wobbly wall of chaos. “Gods. I’m going to regret this in the morning.”

Still, she steps in front of us like a general leading a haphazard army into battle. The world’s best advisor, even when babysitting queens and their drunken new besties.

“I love you, Clara,” I whisper conspiratorially. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I couldn’t do any of this without you. You’re the best. The best advisor, the best friend. My wolf loves you. We both do.”

She glances back, her expression conflicted. “You’re buttering me up after I already agreed to this nonsense.”

Estee waggles a finger between us. “She tells no lies, Miss Clara. Our new beastie here wouldn’t shut up about you all night. Sister from another mister, ride-or-die kind of stuff. ”

“I don’t even want to know.” Clara raises a hand, cutting off any further drunken declarations. “If you three think you’re getting near that painting tonight, you need to shut the hell up.”

Isla moves her pinched pointer finger and thumb over her mouth then flicks her hand away. Estee does the same, and even though I have no idea what the action means, I follow suit. That’s just what a good beastie does.

We creep through the castle’s lower levels—or stumble, if I’m being honest. The air is thick, the shadows pressing in closer than usual. Still, somehow, we make it to the alcove.

“There’s my mate!” I announce, pointing dramatically at the painting like it’s the crown jewel of my life.

Estee drapes herself across my back, squinting at the artwork. “He’s very…colorful.”

“I don’t think she means the picture,” Isla says with exaggerated seriousness. “But if she does, we support you, Beastie. No judgment.”

“I know I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t help myself,” Clara grumbles. “Why do you two keep calling her Beastie ?”

“Duh.” Isla taps her on the forehead. “She’s a beast. A wolf queen beast. And our new bestie. Our Beastie.”

Clara shakes her head. “Just don’t touch anything.” She moves to lower the painting from the wall, and when the runes appear, my heart starts beating frantically in my chest.

“Julian.” I whisper his name and step forward, but Clara shoves me back.

“No touching,” Clara barks, her arm flung across my chest like a brace. “In your current state, we have no idea…”

Her words trail off, and I think I’m passing out, but then I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit as my stomach roils. I try to breathe through the nausea but then panic because my body is missing. When I scream, the noise only echoes around me.

“Sloane!” Julian’s voice booms so loudly I cover my ears.

Hey, I have arms again. Wait, not really. I mean sort of. I’m spirit-walking!

I stumble out of the shadows and chuckle to myself. Apparently, being tipsy doesn’t discriminate between spirit form and my actual body.

“I’m okay,” I say. “Mostly. I didn’t actually think that was going to work.”

“What happened to you?” His snarl rumbles deep, and for a split second, his eyes gleam too much like Aeson’s.

I step back instinctively, raising a finger. “Nope. Don’t do that. You look like him when you do, and that’s a no from me.”

His expression softens immediately. “Are you…are you drunk?”

I hold up my thumb and forefinger, squinting at the tiny gap between them. “Maybe just a smidge.”

“That’s not good, Sloane.” His sigh is long and pained, almost identical to Clara’s when I’ve pushed her patience to its limit. “You need to be able to protect yourself.”

“Oh, I did.” I smile proudly. “I’ve got backup now. Besties. New besties. They’re amazing. My own personal warriors.”

His brow lifts, but I don’t give him time to ask. “I probably need a plan for tomorrow though,” I continue, the thought smacking me in the face like an afterthought. “Aeson’s mad. Like, really mad. I told him I’d do what I damn well please, and surprise—he didn’t like that.”

The low, warning growl that echoes from Julian makes me shiver, even in spirit form. It’s less threatening and more…protective, like a wolf ready to rip out the throat of anyone who dares to touch what’s his .

“Does he know you found me?” His voice is all gravel and heat, but the question feels like a blade to my heart.

“No,” I whisper then hiccup. “I mean…I don’t think so. But even if he does, screw him.” I sway on my feet, spinning my finger in a lazy circle above my head. “I’m yours. All yoursssss.”

The sharp edges of his expression soften into something warm, something devastatingly tender. “Hearing you say that is more than I deserve,” he says quietly. “But Sloane, you have to be careful. Please.”

“I am.” I nod so hard my spirit form nearly topples. “Estee and Isla are here. They’re badass queens, and they’ve got my back. We even have a plan. A goddess is coming. Aurora. She’s gonna save the day.”

Julian’s face freezes, his jaw clenching tight. “The original goddess?”

The cave sways, my spirit flickering at the edges. “Dunno. Don’t remember. Everything’s spinning…”

“Sloane.” He takes a step forward, the water around his waist rippling ominously. “You can’t trust them. No matter what they offer, gods and goddesses always have their own games to play.”

My stomach lurches violently, and my knees buckle. “Uh oh. I think I’m gonna?—”

“Sloane!”

I can’t hold it. The world flips upside down, my spirit slamming back into my body with all the grace of a falling boulder. My eyes snap open, and I immediately hurl all over Clara’s shoes.

“Oh, gods.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, grimacing. “I’m so sorry.”

Clara stands frozen, nostrils flaring as she glares down at her ruined footwear. “That better have sobered you up. ”

She shakes her foot violently, flicking chunks of vomit onto the stone floor before groaning. “Damn it. This I actually do have to clean up.”

“No, you don’t,” a voice says from the shadows.

The four of us freeze, heads snapping toward the hallway.

Dasha stands at the edge of the corridor, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, a storm of conflicting emotions painted across her face. Guilt. Resolve. Fear.

Well, shit.