Page 71

M arjani stared into space, listening to Fane breath.

She hated Corban. She was here to kill him.

The prick deserved to be in a cage, and she knew damn well if their positions were reversed, he wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. The man should’ve been a serpent, not a wolf.

It did something to you, to know your own cousin had been behind the plot to drug and rape you.

Oh, Corban had kept his hands clean so that he could swear to Adric he hadn’t touched her—but he’d masterminded her kidnapping by a small den of half-insane river fada.

The den had also kidnapped Tiago do Rio, the Rock Run alpha’s youngest brother, in an attempt to set her clan against his, the local river fada.

If things had gone as planned, both alphas would’ve been dead, leaving Corban as the Baltimore alpha and the Rock Run fada in disarray.

Somehow Tiago had fought back, even though he’d been drugged himself, and saved them both. But not before the men had had her…

It was her cougar who had kept her sane by stepping in and taking control.

Corban deserved to die—a slow, miserable death. So why couldn’t she stop thinking about him, locked in that iron cage and gradually going mad?

Uncle Leron had been right. She was weak.

You’re soft. His harsh voice rang in her ears. A female, and a scrawny one at that. You’ll do whatever I fucking say, understand?

Leron had been a wolf shifter, tall and powerfully built. She’d stared up at him, defiant but hollow with fear. Leron rarely beat her like he did his three sons and Adric, but the threat was always there.

She couldn’t do anything about her size—she had her mom’s slim build. But both her parents had been clan soldiers, and they’d trained her and Adric in fighting techniques from the time they were toddlers. But her parents were dead, and Leron’s mate was even more afraid of him than Marjani was.

So Marjani had trained even harder until her body was a finely honed machine, and she was a wizard with knives. She knew the best way to cut a man so that he’d bleed out in less than a minute, and she was never without two or three blades concealed around her body.

And none of that had helped that night in Baltimore when Shania had slipped the aphrodisiac into her drink. A woman she’d thought was a friend—a den mate.

You survived.

She had to focus on that or go insane.

But is it survival when your nightmares make you mewl like a cub?

Her hand flexed on Fane’s chest. Gods, she was pathetic, snuggled up to a man she barely knew—and a part-fae at that. But she liked that wild meadow scent of his. Her cat wanted to roll around in it, take the scent on its fur.

Even the thump of his heart beneath her hand was comforting.

You’re weak. A female, and a scrawny one at that. You should’ve been drowned at birth.

She ground her teeth.

Maybe Adric was right—she was too broken to be out in the world. But she’d spent the past year hiding in their den. Sinking deeper and deeper into her animal.

Fada healed more quickly as their animals, so no one had questioned it. In fact, Adric had encouraged her to remain as her cougar.

By the time she was stronger, it was too late. The cat often overrode the human part of her. Not even Adric knew how much. She’d let the cougar remain in control for long days as she’d healed.

Because she felt afraid as a woman. The woman was weak, vulnerable—but not the cougar. If those men had attacked her cat, it would’ve ripped out their fucking throats.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Fane murmured. “Go to sleep.”

She grimaced. “Sorry.”

He sighed. “You can’t, can you?”

Her cheeks heated. She mutely shook her head.

He set his other arm around her waist, and she stiffened, but he kept the touch nonsexual. His long fingers spread over her stomach, warm and comforting. He hummed, low and hoarse, a rough purr like something out of a ratty old tomcat.

She bit her lower lip, trying not to laugh.

He began to sing, and her jaw slackened. He was good , his rough voice perfectly on pitch, but with an edge that made it intriguing…and fucking sexy.

Deep inside, parts of her stirred to life. Parts that hadn’t shown any interest in more than a year.

The man could bottle that voice and sell it as a love potion.

She didn’t recognize the song, but she guessed it was an old folk song. Dark and mournful, about a woman and her dead lover.

Her breath released. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Sleep.” He switched to another sad song.

I can’t.

She was out before the end of the second verse.

Fane woke before her. In the night, they had turned so that his back was to her and she was curled up against his side. Marjani came awake as he slid out of bed. She turned over and watched, slit-eyed, as he moved around the room. Not embarrassed, exactly, but not wanting to talk with him either.

He disappeared into the bathroom and the shower came on.

She fingered the amethyst crystals of her quartz, a gift from Adric after her kidnapping. He’d found her a good match, and she loved how the amethyst ranged in shades from deep purple to smoky gray, but she still mourned her old quartz.

The one the river fada had smashed into pieces and tossed into the filthy waters of the Inner Harbor.

Enough. It wasn’t her nature to hide. So she’d embarrassed herself—who gave a shit?

Throwing off the comforter, she got out of bed and pulled a sweater over her T-shirt before lacing on her hiking boots.

Her blades went back into their usual places—the dagger and stiletto into the leather sheaths in her boots, the switchblade in her right front pocket.

The fishing knife she left in the backpack.

The little round table had an inlaid checkerboard, and she found a box of checkers on a shelf beneath the table. She set up the pieces and idly pushed them around, working on a new strategy.

She’d learned the game from her dad and then kept it up. She and Adric had often played matches on the little checkerboard she carried around with her as they shivered during a long, cold stakeout ordered by Uncle Leron.

The thought of her smart, serious dad made her squeeze her eyes shut. Will Savonett hadn’t even wanted to be a soldier. If he’d had his way, he would’ve been a crystal engineer like Jace. His death, along with her mom’s, had left a hole in her heart that nothing could fill.

No one should die so young and far from home.

Fane emerged from the bathroom, jolting her back to the present. His blue eyes crinkled in a smile. “Morning.”

“Morning.”

All he wore were the skinny black jeans from last night. She couldn’t help a quick perusal of his bare chest, all lean, hard muscle with dark blond hair curling over it.

That spark of interest heated her insides again. She pressed her mouth into a line and looked away.

Going into his closet, he pulled on a clean T-shirt and an oatmeal-colored sweater with a black-and-white band across the chest in a traditional Icelandic pattern.

“Hungry?” he asked. “I can get us some breakfast.”

“Thank you.” She rose to her feet. She wanted to be standing for this. “But first, I want to see this wolf.”

He stilled. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m not asking your permission. Take me to him, or I’ll go myself.”

He studied her, clearly trying to decide how best to manage her. She raised her chin, because she wasn’t going to be “managed.”

“I should call your bluff,” he said. “You wouldn’t get within ten yards of him before you found yourself locked in a cage, too.”

She swallowed hard—and reined in her pride. Clashing with him would get her nowhere. In Baltimore, she was a person of power, the alpha’s second. Here she was a fada, lower than dirt as far as the ice fae were concerned. But Fane had treated her well. Hell, he’d probably saved her life.

“Please. I have to make sure it’s really him. No one has to know. You can conceal me like you did last night, can’t you?”

“How do I know you won’t try to stick one of those knives into him?”

“I won’t. That’s a promise.” She’d already rejected that as a bad idea. The fae would know a fada was running loose in the castle.

His hand cupped her face. “I have a hard time saying no to you. Why is that, do you think?” His thumb caressed her cheek.

Their gazes snagged. His eyes were very blue.

She moistened her lips. “I don’t know,” she whispered.

Those sky-colored eyes heated like twin blue flames. “I think you do.” He blew out a breath and released her. “I’ll probably regret this, but all right. I’ll take you to him. We’ll go now, while everyone else is at breakfast.”

“Thank you.” She scraped a hand over her shaved head and then took a step back. “I just need a minute.” She dashed into the bathroom to pee and run a brush over her teeth.

Fane was waiting, arms crossed over his broad chest. “I’ll have your promise before we leave this room. You’re just going to take a look—nothing else. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” She instinctively touched her chest over her quartz. “I give you my word.”

He looked at her feet. “Better take the boots off—I don’t want you clomping around.”

“Don’t worry.” She paced in a soundless circle around him.

His smile was wry. “I keep forgetting you’re a cat. Hang on, let me check the hall.” He cracked open the door. “It’s clear.” He beckoned her closer and took her hand. “You know the drill. Stay close to me and no will see you. Don’t talk, and be careful not to brush up against anyone.”

“Got it.”

Together, they strode into the hall.