Page 4 of Wolfkissed
“Oh?”
“You’ll see.” He rubs his hands together. “I’m brilliant. It’s such a fantastic idea.”
“What about?” I ask, not really caring. Stepfather’s fantastic ideas usually revolve around crazy schemes such as raising wildcats in our backyard or traveling to the capital to bet on the races.
“I asked them… What in the hells happened to your neck?”
I slap a hand there, wondering if my scar is showing. “What?”
“It’s all red and scratched.”
“Oh.” My shoulders slump in relief. “My necklace. Matilde pulled it off.”
His dark brows rise. “Did she, now? Where is it?”
“She took it.”
“Matilde!” Stepfather hollers and claps his hands, as if calling a dog to heel. “Come here and give that necklace back. It used to belong to her mother.”
I stare at him. His support is unexpected and suspicious.
“But, Liam.” Niele sports a long face as she rises from her seat at the table. “How can you say that? Matilde claims?—”
“Return it to her now,” Stepfather snaps. “And play nice. We have noble guests and want to give a good impression, or did you forget? In fact, I can hear them already. Open the doors!”
Matilde is pouting. I know she’ll use the distraction to disobey her father, and truth is, by now I’m distracted, too. The doors are thrown open, and boisterous singing emanates from outside. Hunting rhymes, stomping feet, shouts, laughter and snarls, accompanied by barking.
I stare as the hunters enter. It’s a motley crew. It starts with liveried servants blowing on trumpets and carrying the banners of the Houses involved in the hunt.
Then come the aristocrats and rich landowners, dressed in their hunting finery, sturdy coats with brass buttons, riding leggings, tall boots, gloves and tall hats.
They are followed by their hunt servants and huntsmen carrying the catch. Deer, boar, wildcats, tied with ropes and hanging from poles. The tang of blood is heavy in the air. Blood, animal fur, offal and death.
Then come the dogs, followed by the kennel huntsman, kennel men and young pages. The hounds bay and bark, and I flinch without meaning to. They don’t sound exactly like wolves, but there is something about them, something that prods at the dark memories in the pit of my mind.
Stepfather is on his feet, grinning. “Ho, there, esteemed friends. I hope the expedition went splendidly and bore hearty fruit.”
“You could say that!” A middle-aged human man strides forward with a huge grin on his face, dragging a younger man along, their similarity marking them as father and son. “What a spectacular hunt. You should have joined us.”
“Lord Amos.” Stepfather hooks his thumbs in the pockets of his vest. “I was busy at the manor. But I sent my good associate Lord Sinen to plan and lead you.”
“The fae lord? Aye. He had a very specific plan in mind. I said?—”
“Never you mind our plans. Come, sit!” He gestures at the long tables. “Everyone, take your seats! We have a little spectacle prepared for you.”
Lord Amos shakes his gray head, his mouth twisting, and does as he is bidden. His son casts me a furtive look I can’t decipher. That’s not covetous lust, not that I’d expect anything of the sort, but… why does he look pained?
More nobles walk past us, mostly human, though a couple of fae also stalk by, chins held high, defying the bad reputation their kind has these days. A few start when they notice me, but that’s to be expected. They all know my story and can recognize me from my colors and the small scar disfiguring one side of my mouth. I should be used to curious looks and expressions full of pity by now.
Gritting my teeth, I glare and refuse to sit down and cower. Past me, younger me, would have done so, eventually running out of the room and hiding. But since my stepfather remarried, I’ve had to quickly grow some thick skin. It was that or sink, and I wouldn’t let my parents’ love for me go to waste.
So here I am, scarred inside and out, not giving up. And you know what, that’s the best sort of revenge on fate.
You wanted me to lie down and die? Well, tough.
My cousins make their way over to us as the hunters keep filing in. Two girls and a boy, well, a man, they grin at me as they approach. I’ve known them since we were little, and they would visit when their parents had business meetings in the area. It’s hard to believe they are adults now.
That I am an adult, too, and survived in order to be standing here now, greeting them.
