“You used almost all of my firewood. I don’t suppose you bothered to collect more?”
She wasn’t used to being in this position—with nothing sensible to say in her own defense. The truth was just so fucking messy and complicated and—
“I’m sorry. You were right when you said we were in a fight. I was tending to my husband, so I didn’t have a chance to replenish the fuel.” Her tone was as humble as it ever had been. Her loyal Noxblades—Gavriel especially—would be horrified.
That finally roused a reaction from their unwilling host. A flicker of something softened his craggy features as he knelt to feed a block of wood to the waning flames. Thalia wasn’t good at gauging Animari faces, but he looked to be around Raff’s age. Quite young to have chosen life as a hermit, she reckoned.
“Husband,” he repeated, sounding thoughtful.
Was that a mistake?
If he was some mad purist, he might attack them for embarking on a mixed marriage. She tensed and from the way Raff’s arm tightened beneath her hand, he was ready for this to encounter to spin from bad to worse. He’s in no shape to fight. Dammit, we only needed one more day to rest. It wasn’t fair, and she knew it, but she wished the owner could’ve delayed his return a little longer.
“That’s me,” Raff said deliberately. He also took half a step forward, putting himself between her and the other Animari.
“Let me guess, you eloped, and her folk didn’t take kindly to it. Things went bad in the woods and he almost died. Now you’re hiding out, wondering if you made a terrible mistake.”
It was a reasonable guess, based on what he’d observed, but Thalia wasn’t sure if the truth would make things better or worse. Before she could reply, Raff said, “I’m not wondering that. If I could do it all over again, I’d still marry this woman.”
Even though you’ve been in constant jeopardy, constant pain, because of me? In front of the other Animari, she couldn’t ask. She wanted to. Desperately.
“Those are the magic words. I can’t resist a star-crossed romance.” The man’s tone was oddly wistful, belying his stern appearance.
“Does that mean we can stay the night?” Thalia asked.
“Dear mercy, I was never going to shove you out in the dark. I just wanted to take your measure some. You aren’t the first trespassers who’ve stumbled in. Won’t be the last either, I expect.”
She let out a long, slow breath, relief making her sound like a deflating balloon. Raff wrapped an arm around her and to their host, it might look like he was being protective, but in truth, he was leaning on her, hard. Yeah, not nearly ready to march on Daruvar.
“Introductions seem to be in order. I’m Thalia. This is Raff.”
The wolf lord managed a credible bow by clinging to her arm as he dipped at the waist. A scowl creased the other Animari’s brow.
“Titus. Don’t ask me any personal questions, don’t bother me with polite nonsense, and we’ll get along fine.”
“Thank you,” Thalia said. “It’s generous of you to let us stay.”
“It’s clear your man can’t move on. If he gets ambushed by your people again, he won’t make it out of these woods alive.”
“True enough,” she said softly.
He wasn’t entirely wrong. If I was the kind of leader who inspired instinctive loyalty, Ruark wouldn’t have gained such a following. The other houses would’ve fallen in behind Thalia, despite the long shadow her father cast.
Sighing, Titus set down his pack. “I’m bone-tired, so I get the bed, and tomorrow, I expect Miss Thalia to wash everything you’ve dirtied in my absence.”
That…covered a lot of ground. She’d cut up the spare blanket, used it for rags and bandages. The floor was smeared with blood and the sheets…well, she’d never in her life washed anything like that, but if she was pretending to be a normal woman, who’d run away with the love of her life, so be it. Raff started to argue; she shook her head silently.
“I’ll take care of it,” she promised.
“Good. Of course, freeloaders can’t be choosy, but here, you two can huddle up in the sleeping bag I used on the road.”
Raff caught the cloth bundle he tossed, and it smelled none too fresh, even to Thalia’s reckoning. To another Animari, the damn thing must reek. Still, it was better than lying on the cold wood floor. Since Titus was blowing out candles and dimming the lantern, she guessed it was time for bed, like it or not.
There was no chance for a private conversation. Anything Raff whispered to her, Titus would hear perfectly. The wolf lord conveyed that with a single sideways look and she inclined her head as she laid out their makeshift mattress. At least the slick fabric should be warm, even if it smelled like smoke and…Titus. Raff made a sound deep in his throat when she laid down. Some territorial Animari thing, probably.
Then he appeared to get over it and settled behind her, again putting his body between her and Titus. This sort of thing didn’t really happen among the Eldritch. She had no words for how it made her feel, sort of warm and melting and puzzled. Despite how she looked, people rarely treated her as if she was truly…precious. The loyalty she received from her followers felt different than what she got from Raff. Silently he zipped the sleep sack and spooned up behind her, a physical wall between her and any harm that might creep up in the night.
He’d also made sure that she would sleep next to the fire, and Thalia had no fucking idea what she’d do if he crept any closer. To someone who had lived such a chill and lonely life, the sudden warmth blazed too hot and strong, a fire that might burn her to death, if she wasn’t careful.
It’s so hard to be careful.
For the next two days, Raff watched while Thalia played housemaid. She swept and scrubbed the floor, washed the linens by hand, and tried to cook a soup that he saved from burning while she was dusting the furniture. She wasn’t good at any of it, and the effort exhausted her, but she wouldn’t let him help. Every time he tried, she scowled and ordered him to sit down, like he was a delicate porcelain figurine. She really didn’t seem to understand how fast the Animari healed or how tired he was of lazing around.
Today, he followed her out to the clearing where she’d hung the rug and was using a stick to beat the dust out of it. He plucked the wood from her fingers and took over the task. The fact that she finally let him spoke volumes about how tired she was. Marriage to him hadn’t done her any favors; she was rail thin and her delicate hands were chapped and blistered, red across the knuckles from all the unaccustomed scrubbing.
Raff glanced at the bracers that she’d left out in the wan sunlight, hoping to catch a partial charge. The solar panels weren’t powerful, so it would be better if she could plug in. She should be fighting for her people, not coddling him.
He took his aggravation out on the carpet, until Thalia said, “You’ll beat that thing to death. The tiger won’t thank you for ruining his rug.”
With a snarled curse, he tossed the stick aside and drew her against him. She flattened her hands against his chest, but she didn’t push, eyes wide. “What’s wrong?”
“Everything. I’m tired of being strategic. I want to go kill everyone who opposes you.” He had the urge to kiss her, smooth her fair hair, and rub cream on her damaged hands. This woman would probably stick a knife in him and twist if he tried any of that. She didn’t want his protection, and he didn’t have much else to offer.
What more can the big bad wolf do?
Thalia laughed softly. “That’s sweet, but you’re not up to it.”
Raff tried to show her how well his leg had healed. “Look, it’s better. I can put full weight on it, and the scar on my side is nearly gone.”
She shooed him toward the cabin. “Nice try, but I remember clearly how hard I worked to take care of you. I won’t risk your recovery. If you’re bored, see if there’s tea. I’ll want a hot drink when I finish out here.”
He stomped inside, scowling, and rummaged in the cupboard. She wants tea. Never in his life
had he been relegated to a role like maker-of-tea. Korin would laugh her ass off, if she could see him now.
Titus snickered, appearing to find it all extremely amusing. “Are you ever going to tell her that you’re fine, wolf?”
Briefly, he considered punching their host. Better not.
“Does it look like she’d listen?” he snapped, putting the kettle on.
The great cat laughed and shook his head. “Maybe not. Her willingness to ruin those pretty hands speaks to how much she treasures you, though.”
Raff sighed. If that were true, maybe he wouldn’t mind so much, but it felt more like he was accruing a debt to her that he had no way to pay. “We’ll be moving on this afternoon. I’m sorry to have troubled you this long.”
“Is that so? Do you have a plan, at least?”
The tenor of the question raised his hackles; something about the other Animari’s expression made Raff think he knew more than he’d let on, possibly since the beginning. “What are you getting at?”
“You can’t be planning to stroll back to Daruvar. If your enemies have taken the fortress, returning without a sound strategy would be suicide.”
Raff stared. “You know who we are?”
“Please. Everyone knows that the packmaster of Pine Ridge recently married the Eldritch princess, against counsel from advisors on both sides. Does it make sense that there would be some other mixed couple wandering the wood near the Eldritch stronghold?”
“Why did you mislead us with that silly story about star-crossed lovers?” Thalia stood in the doorway, wearing an expression of coldest fury.
“How else could I make you work for your keep?” Titus smirked, seeming pleased with himself.
“Hilarious,” Thalia bit out.
“It would be wrong of me to let you wander off without telling what else I’ve heard.” The levity evaporated from the great cat’s aspect.
Raff wasn’t sure if they could trust their benefactor, especially considering he’d already tricked them once. Then again, making Thalia do housework didn’t exactly rate among the top evil conspiracies of all time, more childish than malevolent. He swapped looks with his wife, and then said, “We’re listening.”
“Seems the fortress was in quite a flutter when you first disappeared. Search parties, lots of movement. But soon, there was an internal shuffle. Now we’re seeing a lot of external movement, troops coming freely from the other houses.”
“Shit,” Raff said.
If they’d missed the window of opportunity, the traitor might have already seized control of Daruvar. If that was the case, they might have executed Janek and Sky. An icy hand clutched at his heart.
“How do you know all this?” Thalia demanded. “Who the hell are you?”
Titus sighed, motioning them both to take a seat. The only place they could all sit was at the rustic table, which had four rough chairs. Reluctantly Thalia closed the door and moved to comply, so Raff went along. There was no point in escalating this situation, if it could be resolved otherwise. He didn’t like the idea of fighting the man who had given them shelter, even if he’d been miserly with the truth.
The water was boiling, so he made the tea she’d requested earlier. It might be faintly ridiculous to drink it now, but she was still cold, whatever else might happen. Titus gave him a look as he served the drinks. He responded with a shrug, setting out powdered milk and sugar. While the cabin might be equipped with basic supplies, he’d enjoy returning to civilization, where he could get a proper hot toddy with fresh lemon and fine aged whiskey.
Assuming that this asshole doesn’t throw down with us here and now. That didn’t seem likely, but the boundaries demarcating who they could trust blurred by the minute. Titus might have backup he could call in—
“Raff probably already knows that this cabin is a meeting point. There’s no erasing scent trails.”
He had smelled a variety of people, converging here—Titus was just the most recent—he hadn’t realized that meant that this was more than a hunting retreat. Raff decided to keep quiet on that point and only offered a silent nod. Best for the great cat not to figure out that Thalia was the true bright spark between them.
“What about it?” he asked.
“We’re all outsiders for one reason or another. Left our prides and packs years ago, but that doesn’t mean we have no interest in the world.”
“You’re wise to be worried,” Thalia said softly. “If Ruark Gilbraith finishes my father’s work and solidifies an alliance with Tycho Vega of the Golgoth, nobody will be left to live as they wish.”
“That is the absolute truth. I went on a supply run and was trying to figure out what to do with that information when I found you two here. If you don’t mind my saying, it seems like providence.”
“What does?” Raff asked.
“Well, instead of passing the word along, as I was planning to, I believe I’m meant to take a more active role this time.”
Thalia cocked her head. To his watchful eye, it looked as if some of her aggravation had dissipated, or at least cooled to a calmer curiosity. “It sounds like you have an idea.”
With a nod, Titus said, “Of course I do. Listen up, and if you approve, we’ll get started before this tea cools.”
20.
Playing dead was never among Thalia’s top strategies, and it was fucking humiliating, but she cared about results, not elegance. Her dignity could get fucked permanently, if it meant resolving the standoff at Daruvar. The wolves were in position, as Korin had come in response to an SOS from Janek, abruptly cut off twelve hours before.
The idea that it might be too late, well, she wouldn’t think about that.
The filth and animal blood that Titus had rubbed on her to transform her into a compelling corpse reeked, and it must be ten times worse for Raff. He lay like a truly dead person beneath her, not reacting even a trifle to the ruts in the rocky forest path. Titus was hauling the cart like a mule, and she wondered, not for the first time, if they could truly trust him. He’d proposed returning their ‘bodies’ for the bounty Ruark had posted, and once they were inside, the wolves would strike, helping them liberate the fortress and root out the traitors.
It was a sound plan, but one that hinged on a stranger not betraying them at the worst possible moment. For all she knew, Titus’s real intention could be to sell them to their enemies, and here they were, quietly going along with the capture. Raff had said he didn’t smell deceit on the great cat, but she’d heard of gifted conmen who could lie without a single physiological sign.
Worrying is pointless. Even if Titus turns on us, Korin is here.
The journey seemed to take forever, and periodically, Titus had to lift the cart physically over a large stone or tangle of roots, jolting them around with absolute unconcern. That was for the benefit of those who were undoubtedly tracking his progress. It didn’t make sense that whoever had taken control of Daruvar in Ruark’s name wouldn’t have posted scouts or sentries.
No, they know he’s coming. He’s passed the preliminary inspection.
With her eyes closed, it was tough to gauge their progress, but maybe she’d been in the wild long enough for her senses to sharpen because she noticed when the scents around her changed. Most of what she smelled was old blood and Raff, but instead of the crisp verdant scent, she also detected hints of smoke, likely from the hearths burning inside Daruvar.
Not far now.
Thalia wished she could get a final word of encouragement from Raff, but their success depended on selling this ruse, so she didn’t move or speak; she barely breathed as Titus dragged the cart up a small incline. She let her body tilt like a dead person would, completely at the mercy of gravity’s pull.
“Who are you?” an unfamiliar male voice called.
“I’m a hunter,” Titus replied. “Bodies I found in the woods match the description I got from another tracker. Word is, there’s a reward offered. It’d set me up nicely for the winter if I could get paid.”
Moment of truth.
If she or Raff moved before the gates opened, they’d unload from the walls. Titus still hadn’t broken character; that was a good sign. She held her body so rigid while they waited that it was a wonder she didn’t vibrate with tension. Then Raff’s fingers brushed hers, too slight of a movement to be visible and covered by her hair as well. That was another sign that she must be dead.
The long delay made her itch, but finally, a female voice called, “Open the gates!”
And her heart died a little. She recognized it—how could she not? Tirael was one of the three Noxblades who had survived the battle of Hallowell and returned to her side with Ferith and Gavriel. The latter was gone on a mission with Magda, Ferith might have died in the cave-in, and she would have said that Tirael was loyal for sure.
Until just now.
She belongs to Ruark? Since when?
No time for further questions. As soon as the gates ground apart, Titus moved, pulling them swiftly toward the doors. “Now!”
On cue, she and Raff bounded out of the cart, shielded from sight by the framework of the walls. Korin and her people poured out of the surrounding forest, charging the hill with a surety and speed that Thalia admired. Raff was wedging the doors open, as previously agreed, while she followed Titus, who shifted before her eyes into a sleek and powerful tiger. He was too fast for her to follow, drawing fire that could’ve killed her.
Thalia whirled out of the gateway with blades in hand, lightning firing from each of her bracers. Half the soldiers dropped their weapons, some sobbing openly in relief. The rest must belong to Ruark and would have to be put down. She acknowledged the mass surrender with a nod, taking it as a pledge of fealty. She couldn’t blame these people for not fighting to the death when word of her demise reached the fortress. Trying to survive wasn’t a crime.
“Don’t just kneel,” she called. “Help me defeat the traitors!”
In response, the guards who had dropped their weapons took them up again and turned on those still fighting. Much as she hated hurting her own people, this had to happen. Paring away hesitation and mercy, she fired again and again, cutting the throats of those who fell. Korin’s forces surged everywhere, led by a massive black wolf. Raff’s ferocity would have chilled her blood, had it not been unleashed in her defense.