Page 85 of The Dead Queen

“Don’t worry, Red. I won’t let them hurt you.”

I turn to find Tristan whittling a stick, flicking the shavings into the fire. Flames crackle, illuminating the twisted hawthorn branches behind him. Their shadows dance and reach for us, like spirits trapped beyond the veil.

“Was that a corpse wolf?” I whisper. My voice pitches high, betraying my terror.

He nods, nonplussed.

My heart races in my chest. “I was attacked by one, once.”

Tristan raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t quit his whittling. “And you lived to tell the tale? Impressive.”

His eyes flicker to Hunter, where he snores gently. His breath rises in tiny clouds with each exhale.

“Tristan,” I whisper, trying not to wake the others.

His gray eyes meet mine. They glisten in the firelight, full of secrets.

“When we get to the border, you will tell me what happened to my grandmother, won’t you? You’re not just dragging us along for your own benefit?”

His eyes don’t flicker away from mine, not even for an instant. “Red, I promise you, once I’m in Annwyn, I will tell you what I know.”

Maybe I do believe in the Wolf code of honor, because I trust him. When I finally fall back into a fitful sleep, we’re serenaded by a crackling fire and corpse wolves singing to the moon.

Just before dawn, I wake with a start. It takes me a moment to realize why. The fire has burned to little more than embers, and an early morning mist creeps along the ground. A pair of feet in ragged shoes stands inches from my head.

Above me, Gloria and Marten Jr. hold their hands out in offensive stances. Black mist swirls between their palms.

“Give us what remains of your food,” Gloria says in a rough whisper. “And we’ll go peacefully.”

Marten Jr. follows suit. “We have shadow magic, and we will hurt you, if we must.” His voice trembles, but he stands firm.

Nearby, Hunter startles awake. When he sees we’re being robbed, he looks deeply disappointed.

I scan the darkness for the twins and spot them huddled together by a tree. They’re holding onto the bridles of our two horses. Marigold’s ears twitch as she watches to see what I’ll do.

On the other side of the fire pit, Tristan sits up with an irritated grunt.

“We already knew you’d rob us blind, kid. Just take the saddlebag and be on your way.” He tuts. “Honestly, I figured you’d sneak away hours ago.” His eyes flicker to the twins with our horses a short distance away. “But you’d better leave those horses. We have a long journey ahead of us.” He lifts a lazy hand, holding a sparking ball of blackness that makes their flimsy shadows look like child’s play.

Marten Jr’s eyes grow wide. His own shadow power dissipates in an instant.

Gloria grabs her son to her chest. “You’re a Wolf. You should have told us.”

“Why?” Tristan asks, curious. “So you could rob us a different way?”

“Please don’t hurt us,” Marten Jr. says. His voice cracks.

Tristan sighs, rolling his eyes. “Just go already.” He kicks the saddlebag toward them. Marten Jr. scrambles for it, then backs away slowly.

Gloria shoots Hunter an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I have to take care of my children.” She lets out a stifled sob.

At the sound, Hunter looks physically pained. “I know.” He briefly glances my way. From the look in his eyes, I know what’s coming. Damn Hunter and his overlarge heart.

“Take the horses,” he says. “You need them more than we do.”

“What?!” Tristan gasps behind us.

Hunter shoots him a look. “I won’t have a family of four dying in Korrigan Forest if I can help it.”