Page 39 of The Wolf and the Chimera (The Witch and the Cowboy #3)

I tugged at the collar of my shirt. “Then I should hide my new mark.”

Ryder growled, and I shot him a glare. I wasn’t ashamed of it—I was trying to find a way to explain this to Lyall without raising suspicion.

“It won’t work,” Melanie said. “After a claiming—even half of one—a mated pair’s scent intermingles. It’s not something you can hide.”

Part of me reveled in the permanence of our intertwined scents, but the rest of me panicked.

“Does anyone,” I said. Heat burned my cheeks, “halfway claim someone?”

“No,” Ryder said flatly and glared at his brother.

“They’re coming,” Bo hissed.

A plan struck me, and my breath caught. I reached for the hem of my damp shirt to pull it over my head, and Ryder gently gripped my wrist. I slapped him away.

“I have a plan,” I insisted quietly, “but I’ll need you to channel some of that anger you felt when we were interrupted.”

Kieran paled, and I amended, “not all of it.”

Shirtless, I led Ryder back into the pool and spoke in a rushed whisper to him and the other werewolves.

“Let me answer first,” I said, “and then add your own voices to the story, okay?”

They nodded, and figures loomed on the cliffside. Ryder pushed me farther behind him and shielded me from their sight.

Perfect .

“Ryder,” I said loudly in a voice breathless and rattled by fear, “calm down. You have to calm down—we’re safe now.”

Ryder snarled at both his friends and the werewolves now rushing to the creek in their human forms. As they drew closer, the tallest one in the middle radiated power. I recognized his blond hair, steely blue eyes, and bright white dress shirt.

Lyall.

Fear spiked my heartrate, and I stifled the urge to draw on my power. For once, I was grateful for Circe’s ceaseless training.

Control, control, control.

Instead of wielding my power, I used my terror to put on a better show. My hands shook at my sides, and Ryder pushed me a step deeper into the water, farther out of the Sovereign’s reach.

This is good, I told myself.

I had planned on putting on a performance for patrolling wolves, not Lyall, but if I could lie well enough, maybe hearing the story from me first would work to our advantage.

You faced a Minotaur, I reminded myself. You can handle Lyall.

“Stay back,” I warned the patrolling wolves. “He’s-he’s not himself right now.”

Lyall studied us, and his nostrils flared. I realized he was taking in my altered scent. Both Ryder’s growl and my shiver of disgust were genuine. The guards looked cautiously between us and their Leader, unsure how to treat us—as friends or foes.

Lyall spoke to his son. “What are you doing? You know better than to mess around near the sacred waterfall.”

Kieran blanched.

I swallowed. “Um, Sovereign?”

I hated the sweet, unsure timbre of my voice, but I would play the part of the damsel again if it meant saving my friends and my mate .

Lyall’s gaze homed in on me, and Ryder tensed. In my mind, my chimera growled.

Trust me, I told her. She quieted.

“You might want this to be a private conversation,” I said. I looked at the wolves flanking him, then at the waterfall behind us.

The Sovereign jerked his head. “Leave us.”

His patrolling wolves didn’t hesitate before shifting into their wolf forms and jogging into the forest. When they were out of sight, I continued.

“This is so embarrassing,” I admitted and buried my face in my hands. “I, well, I’m sure you noticed a… change in my scent. You see, I was mad Ryder left me with Kieran when he went with you this morning. I don’t need a babysitter.”

I chewed on my lip and wrung my hands. “So, I slipped away from Kieran, but Ryder found me, of course, walking alongside the creek. We got into a huge fight, but I realized I was only upset because I care so much what he thinks of me, you know?”

Lyall said nothing. Silence hung over the creek like an axe waiting to fall, but I pressed on.

“Things got heated in a different way.” My fingers traced my newfound mark. “One second, I was in Ryder’s arms, and he was backing me against the rock of the waterfall, and the next—”

“We discovered the damned ripple you like to keep secret from your pack,” Ryder grumbled.

Frustration darkened his words, and I fought my smile. My werewolf was a decent liar.

“We saw them get sucked into the ripple,” Kieran added, “and we weren’t sure what to do.”

“Eventually,” Melanie said, “we knew we had to follow them.”

“I’m glad they did,” I said, “we wouldn’t have been able to fight our way to safety without them. The High Witch sent Handmaidens, golems, and vampires to retrieve me. ”

Truth and lie and truth, I thought, mingled until you can’t tell one from the other.

Lyall chuckled darkly. “Did you indeed fight?”

I blanched.

Was he pointing out a misstep in my lie or trying to mock me for my shortcomings?

Though I wanted to snarl at him, I hung my head in shame.

“Taunt her again,” Ryder threatened, “and I’ll rip out your tongue.”

Dear gods. The words weren’t part of an act. Kieran swallowed, and Melanie’s blue eyes widened, but Lyall laughed.

“I see having your claiming interrupted has worsened your short temper,” Lyall joked. “Though anyone would be pissy with the bitter scent of bloodsuckers clinging to their skin.”

Joking aside, the Sovereign stared at us with cool, unflinching eyes. We spoke to a predator, not a politician.

Lyall’s voice was cold. “Where did you go?”

“I guess my mind took us to somewhere safe,” Ryder said. “We went to my favorite meadow back home.”

“We followed them,” Bo added. “Over and over, we thought, find Elle and Ryder.”

“We knew we couldn’t let them go off on their own,” Kieran said.

Smart, I thought, to play the loyal, vigilant son.

“And how,” Lyall asked and prowled closer, “did you get back?”

Ryder tensed, and I jumped in.

“We used the ripple on the hunters’ property,” I answered. “We knew the High Witch’s forces would never follow us to the estate. They want me, but they’re not suicidal.”

I prayed Lyall didn’t know that particular ripple had been rendered useless, but the stroke to Lyall’s ego was the cherry on top of our performance. The Sovereign smiled.

“I’m glad you feel safe here, Elle,” he cooed, “especially now that you’re part of the family, though I must say, Kalli will want to hold a ceremony for you two immediately.”

I painted a pleasant smile on my face. “That would be lovely.”

“I would rather wait until we’re home on my father’s lands,” Ryder countered.

Lyall chuckled. “Now, you’re eager to wait? You didn’t wait to give your mate a proper ceremony before sinking your teeth into her neck.”

Ryder growled, and his dominance made the sound rumble like a storm. My own chimera stirred at Lyall’s crude words, and the accusation laced in them. I soothed her wrinkled emotions and laid a hand on Ryder’s bare back to try to do the same for him.

Lyall’s grin had shifted into a smug smirk. He knew Ryder was edgy right now and wanted to throw him off that metaphorical cliff.

“C’mon,” Kieran insisted, “shouldn’t we wash the stink of vampires off our skin before we plan claiming ceremonies?”

Back to his politician ways, Lyall chuckled.

“You’re right, my boy,” he said. “You’re all a little worse for wear. Let’s go home.”

As we followed Lyall to the chateau, Ryder scooped up my shirt from where I had tossed it on the shore, and I put it back on. Though I should’ve been satisfied that I had successfully lied to one of the most dangerous men on earth, a niggle of fear burrowed in my chest and refused to abate.

Lyall could plan ceremonies and bashes and parties, but it didn’t change the fact that he wanted Ryder’s power for Kieran and my power for some twisted, unknown use.

He bought the lie, I reminded myself. Just be grateful for that.

Regardless of my self-assurances, part of me wished I hadn’t refused to stay in Circe’s realm so quickly.

A life of hiding suddenly didn’t seem so bad.