Because the King of the Forest was gone.
In the morning, I woke on the ground. Fee’s magic had disappeared. So had the kitchen, the bed, and the bathroom, not that it mattered. My task here was done.
I waved my gratitude to the tree nymph and splashed through the creek. Blew out a long breath.
Snow had fallen during the night, piling on the bare branches of the trees and falling in little flurries as the sun rose.
The forest silence rubbed at me. Fee’s visit had not been random. No new gadget to show off, or a need to avoid Aine.
But all that talk about the Carmag, corrupting things—affecting Noa.
I braced against the idea that magic was involved and beyond my control. Anson would protect her with his life and his honor. He wasn’t asshole enough to leave Noa vulnerable, no matter what his grievance was with me. We’d been through problems before, where his interests were at odds with mine, and we’d worked through the difficulties.
I wanted Noa to heal and be with her family. I didn’t want her where she’d not be protected. But after Fee’s warning, maybe I didn’t want her in the Carmag, either.
Mace was waiting when I reached the Refuge, and every other deliberation disappeared when he said, “Vampires and a wolf with three to sell. We leave now, we’ll catch them in the act.”
I shoved down the rushing pressure in my chest. Forced myself to focus on the details.
“My contact sent a message,” Mace was saying, arming up, sliding knives into the sheaths in his fighting leathers. “No forewarning. They’re wary with so many attacks on the hybrids.” The last of Mace’s knives slammed home. “There’s a passage.”
“Who?” Not that it mattered. The wolf—elder, coward, enemy—would be dead within an hour. And it wouldn’t be dead like in his sleep, easy and unnoticed. No, it would be the sort of death a dread lord handed out. The shit people loved to whisper about when the nights were long and boring.
“I don’t have a name. Won’t know until we kill him.” Mace turned, a cruel tilt to his lips. “But you’ve guessed, Gray. I’ve guessed.”
Even the rumor of a Sentinel Falls elder kidnapping wolves, selling them, was a stain on the pack. A personal stain on Mace’s leadership, as well as mine and Fallon’s. Put us on the same immoral level as the Alpen.
We’d soon learn the truth.
“This is a fucking win.” Mace was as primed as I was, a powerful, efficient killer who inspired dread in the soon-to-be dead. “Rid ourselves of a traitorous elder while cutting Barend off at the knees. One more long-standing problem off your list.”
Nothing was closer to the truth. Even without visual proof, all the evidence pointed to Mosbach, and it made me sick. The many times he’d touched Noa, insulted her. Threatened to give her to the vampires—for this? To sell to Barend?
My wolf was on board for everything. What he did to the hybrids would pale against the vengeance shimmering in him now, the malice that echoed in his growl when he surged with the need to shift. Take control.
I pushed the flash of brutality down, encased it in ice. Giving in to blind impulse wouldn’t serve me. I would deal with Mosbach, and the aftermath would become another shit storm. “He has men loyal to him.”
“Every settlement and den in the territory has lost someone in this war.” Mace slid another blade into a leather sheath, as if he wasn’t already heavily armed. “And no wolf would dare challenge you now. They know you fight for them. Go out night after night to hunt creatures and hybrids. They see what you’ve become and they’re loyal.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face.
You didn’t create hybrids, Mace hissed through the pack bond.
I didn’t prevent them.
Every wolf in the pack honors—
“I know,” I said firmly.
“This is not about those gods-damned seers—what they told you years ago. You are not responsible.”
“I will always be responsible.”
“We, Gray. None of us are meant to have normal lives. That happy ending? For others, maybe. But not for us. Even Fallon knows the truth.”
“And you, Mace?” I turned to look at him. “What truth do you know?”
“The one I see every time I close my eyes at night.”
