Page 96 of Ravenous

“I’ll have to unbridle this magic sooner or later, but whatever you say, wolf.”

“Remember, I take the hits.”

She chuckled again, sounding more like a sweet, amorous female and less like a demonic witch who ate sorcery and skewered unwary Lykae up the arse.

That thought made him hesitate to give her his back. He could never predict her actions, which left him even more on edge. With a bitter curse, he turned to enter, heartened that she fell in line without violating him.

He inhaled the cave’s foul air. At leastthreefemales inhabited this lair. His Sorceri target wasn’t alone.

Other scents hit, and his Lykae mind sorted them.

Offal. Decay. Death.

Aye, wrongness.

Why did the magically inclined always have to be so bloody eerie? He glanced over his shoulder at his mate, wondering if he’d even skimmed the surface of her. Or if he ever would.

“Come in, friends,” called a voice from the dark. “Come in.”

He followed the sound deeper into the cavern, toward a space lit by trembling candles jammed into skulls and cracks in the stone. It might’ve been a wizard’s workshop—if the wizard had been mad. Which most of them were.

Blood-slick stone slabs. Jars lined on crooked shelves, each holding something that twitched in murky fluid. Shadows jumped as the candles wavered.

He scented again. A mortal had recently died here. Perhaps a Berserker. Had these Sorceri butchered the poor sod?

What kind of female would cannibalize—

The thought ended abruptly.Your mate would.

He shot Ditch a look over his shoulder. Her lips curved, and amusement danced in her eyes. Had she read his thoughts?

She whispered loudly, “Lazara, rest her soul, had good taste.”

His mate was a godsdamned cannibal of her own kind.Fuuuck.He grated, “You said you would no’ read me.”

“I also said I lie all the time.”

“I thought you could only detect my deepest desires as an enchantress. Not a mind reader.”

“I’m not even probing your thoughts, darling. With this much stolen sorcery brewing, they just come to me.”

Before he could answer, a figure drifted from the shadows. The tall female wore a mesh dress and metal gloves with sharp claws. A mask of beaten gold hid her face. “We never get guests,” she cooed. “We three sisters like guests. I’m Pemphre, the Queen of Questions.”

Two other females emerged behind her. Clad in mesh as well, they wore eye masks over their bloodless faces. One’s painted smile was a jester’s slash, the other’s mouth a red frown. Their irises were so dark their eyes appeared not to have pupils.

Pemphre pointed a claw to the tallest of the three. “That’s Enya, Queen of Chaos.” A dismissive wave indicated the other sister. “And she’s Deina, Queen of Riddles.”

He inclined his head. “Thane, King of Craigdúr. This is Ditch, High Priestess of the Witches.”

Pemphre’s tone turned silken. “A practitioner of great power. We haveheardof her. We haveinterestin her. We shouldlikeher.”

Ditch’s grin was all teeth. “And what are your powers, queens?”

Pemphre trailed a claw down her own throat. “I answer any question, but the answer is always unwelcome. Deina grants power to whoever solves her riddles.”

Deina sang softly, “Who lives in light behind a sheer wall, whose death will cause the fall of us all?”

“Thank you, Deina.” Pemphre rolled her eyes behind her mask. “And Enya, the Queen of Chaos? She hastens fate.”