No. I didn’t. The Moon Goddess had made that much very clear. But Grae hadn’t known we were fated mates when he gave me that necklace years ago, which meant . . . I’d always been important to him, even when I was just a little fox in the woods. He could only protect one of us, and he’d chosen me. The thought made my chest heavy.
“So we’re hiding from Damrienn and Olmdere alike? Great.” I changed the subject, touching a hand to the sticky ointment along my jaw. “The eyes of two kingdoms will be searching for us. I think we should stay with Galen den’ Mora.”
“No.”
“It’s a better cover than us traveling on our own,” I insisted. “The four of us look like what we are—Wolf warriors. Your father’s guards won’t be searching for a traveling group of musicians. They’ll probably be hunting our scents on all four paws and won’t be tracking wagon wheels. Sawyn wouldn’t suspect them either if she catches wind of your plans.”
“We risk revealing ourselves if we stay with them.” Grae twisted toward his pack and grabbed a cloth. “You saw Hector and Sadie. They have probably revealed to the whole camp that they’re Wolves by now.”
“They’ll learn. They can handle it,” I said, watching as he tipped his skin of water onto the cloth. “You just need to remind them. Why would they suspect we’re Wolves? Wolves don’t leave their packs.”
“No. They don’t.” Grae scrubbed the cloth down his blood-stained face. “They don’t abandon their mates, either, but I guess we’re breaking all the rules now, aren’t we, little fox?”
My cheeks burned.
“They aren’t going to help Sawyn,” I insisted. “Look at what just happened to them.”
“Exactly—look at what happened. We also risk endangering them by staying.” Grae stared at me as he scrubbed along his neck.
“I still think it’s a better idea to fade into a human troupe than to travel to Olmdere on our own.”
“And I still think it’s too big a risk.” Grae chucked the cloth onto his bag, his voice dropping an octave. “Listen . . . can we talk about us for a second?”
“There is no us.” The words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could second-guess them. “Not while my sister is lying on that tomb, forgotten in your father’s castle. I won’t forget her the way the world has forgotten me.”
Grae’s eyebrows knitted together. “I never forgot about you, little fox.” He stared at me for a long time and I could tell words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t speak them.
My tongue couldn’t even move.
He turned toward the tent flap. “I’m going to check on the others and make sure they haven’t revealed our secrets already.”
“Fine.”
Grae took one more step and paused, looking back over his shoulder at me. “You’re my best friend, Calla. You always have been.” His eyes scanned me up and down. “Would it really be so bad? To be mine?”
My eyes dropped to my split knuckles. The pain of his crestfallen face stung worse than any wound. Is that what he thought? That I didn’t want to be his mate? But maybe that was the case after all. Maybe I didn’t . . .
Gods, I’d messed this all up. I didn’t know how much of me was running from him and how much was running toward Olmdere, but this was Grae, my Grae, and he was mine if only I’d let him be.
“No,” I whispered, though he was already gone. “It wouldn’t.”
Nineteen
We gathered around the open fire, skewering the savory breads Ora made onto sticks and cooking them over the flames. It was a lean meal but better than the dried meat and hard cheese that the Wolves had brought with them. I sat between Hector and Sadie, staring into the flickering orange flames and holding my aching fingers out to the fire. The cold crept deeper into me as the sun fell below the horizon, my joints stiffening and needle pricks covering my nose and fingertips.
Grae tapped Sadie’s shoulder and she shifted down the log. He squeezed in beside me, our arms and thighs brushing together. Sadie passed him a mug of ginger tea.
“Thank you,” he murmured, placing his elbows onto his knees and leaning toward the fire, his shoulders too broad to fit sitting up.
I pondered that thank you—how easily it was uttered by him—and I wondered if those words weren’t actually for show. Maybe he really did speak to his soldiers this way. Perhaps even his kindness toward the humans wasn’t a ruse.
“To our saviors,” Ora said, lifting their mug in the air. “We are forever grateful you were there in Nesra’s Pass. May the Gods grant you all the blessings in this life that you so rightly deserve.”
“Hear, hear,” Malou said, lifting her mug.
I had always found that human prayer odd—that their Gods only granted the blessings that someone deserved. We had just killed seven people. We didn’t deserve any of the Gods’ blessings.
“We’ve been thinking,” Grae said, drawing the attention of those sitting across the fire. Their images warped from the twisting flames. Grae’s eyes shifted to me and then back to Ora. “The Rooks are rampant in Taigos and I’d imagine even worse in Olmdere. Maybe our crew could join you, seeing as we’re traveling the same way? We could offer you some manner of protection on your travels?”
My mouth dropped open as I blinked at him.
He’d listened to me.
“I was just about to suggest the same thing,” Ora replied, giving Mina a grin. “We’re a little on edge after what happened today. Having some people who are good with swords on our side would be most welcome.”
“Guards to the musicians,” Hector said, raising his mug again. A log cracked and embers danced into the darkening sky.
“I’m assuming it’s not just generosity that made you offer such things.” Ora pursed their lips, rotating their glofta around the licking flames. “You need to keep a low profile, too?”
The four of us froze. What did they know?
“Yes,” Grae finally answered for us. “In our line of work, it’s best to go unnoticed.”
“Until the sword’s in your belly,” Hector said with a laugh that he cut off as soon as Sadie elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“That must be very difficult,” Navin said, his eyes meeting Sadie’s.
Flirting aside, he had no idea. The people we were trying to avoid were our own pack. Now that Grae was gone, too, we were certainly being hunted even as we sat here. We needed to stick to the fringes of town, the human quarters, if we wanted to keep hidden. For all the pomp and circumstance, a musical group would actually draw the least suspicion. Wolves didn’t learn the faces and names of humans, they were window dressing, servants, entertainers, and nothing more. The Silver Wolves hunting us wouldn’t think we’d affiliate with lowly humans. That arrogance would be our greatest cover.
“What are we going to tell people when they ask about them?” Malou asked Ora.
“Hmm.” They considered each of us. “They could help with the setup, or maybe we could say they know how to repair instruments? They could broker performances for us or . . . Calla, you said you can sing?”
“Oh.” My eyes dropped. “Not really.”