A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)

I tore my eyes away from the sweeping vista and found Grae staring at me. Wisps of his hair whipped across his forehead. His cheeks and nose were wind-chapped, his lips parted.

My eyes widened, the memory flooding back to me all at once. “This is it, the place from your stories?” His cheeks dimpled and I gazed back out at the steaming lake, remembering the stories he told me when we were pups. He’d told me about how he’d run in the fresh powder and swum in the hot pools—that it felt like another world and . . .

“You promised to bring me here one day.”

“I did.” His gaze lingered on my face. “I didn’t think it would be like this, though.”

I shifted my feet, uncomfortable under his stare. Like this—with me being wary, distrustful of him, without the easy joy and laughter that used to be what our friendship was built of. That tension still hung between us, and I knew at some point, somehow, it would all come to a head.

“Come on,” he said, staving off that moment while trudging down the side of the crater. “We’ll change in the caves.”

Hengreave disappeared as we dipped below the lip of the crater. I followed Grae toward a curling tunnel of ice. It looked as if one mighty ocean wave had smashed over the side of the crater, frozen in motion. Such a bizarre structure—a long, hollowed-out cavern at the center of the spiral. Grae trudged into the tapered passage. The room seemed made of glass with dripping icicles of the palest blue. The image of the crater twisted and distorted as I stared through the translucent ice and our footsteps echoed across the bright space.

I ducked into an alcove to change, putting a wall of ice between Grae and me. The walls flowed in waves of beautiful crystal as if they melted and froze and melted again, hundreds of times. I traced my finger over the cold ripples, lost in this other world.

Grae’s movement to my right made me turn my head, and what I saw made the ice burn beneath my fingers. His image was so warped I could hardly make out his shape, but instead of charcoal clothes, I saw only his golden brown skin. He reached to the knot of hair on his head and untied it, black now cascading down to his shoulders. He turned away from me, facing the opposite wall, in what I assumed was an act of modesty for me.

“Are you getting changed, little fox?” he asked.

I hastily unclipped the latch of my cloak and let it pool around my feet. “Yes.”

“Or am I distracting you?” I could tell by his infuriatingly attractive voice that he was smiling.

“No, nope,” I said, whipping my tunic over my head and unbuttoning my trousers.

“Good, because if you kept staring at me like that, your Wolf would probably combust and shred off all your clothes.”

“I wasn’t looking at you,” I protested, yanking down my trousers.

Stepping out of them, I looked up to see Grae watching me through the ice. My nipples peaked against the chill. How much could he see? We stared at each other, my shallow breaths steaming the air. Both of us bare. Only a thin layer of ice stood separating his naked form from mine. Part of me wished I was bold enough to walk around the wall, confront him like this. I knew from his form-fitting leathers that his body would be glorious.

Gods, I wish he didn’t make me feel like such a puppy.

Grae turned and left down the passageway before I could summon the courage to move.

“I’ll see you outside.”

Part of me was excited when Sadie and Hector hung back, but now, being along with Grae . . . There was too much there between us, too many unsaid things. It made me feel unsteady, second-guessing my every word and action. And I wished then that I had some of Briar’s confidence. She’d have known exactly how to act.

An impatient howl echoed into the cavern.

The sound called to the most primal part of me, and the shift took me by surprise. With a sweet pain and sharp release, I fell onto all fours. I whirled in a circle, looking at my swishing red tail. Never had something triggered the shift in me like that. It had come on so fast I couldn’t even think, the Wolf in me instantly reacting to his howl. I loved and hated it all at once, that my body could react to him so acutely. I felt out of control and a strange belonging all at the same time. All those contradictory feelings battled within me, trying to make sense of this white-hot burning in my gut.

I shoved it all down. I’d make sense of it later. Right now, I needed to run.

I bolted out of the wave of ice, shooting like an arrow through the powder. I didn’t stop to look at Grae as I zoomed around the lip of the crater, leaning into the slope with delight, letting gravity propel me faster.

“You think you can outrun me, little fox?” Grae’s playful voice whispered into my mind.

The connection between us now felt stronger than ever. I felt him in every cell of my body—his voice, his scent.

“You might be bigger, but I’m faster,” I taunted, zipping through the swirling steam from the hot pools.

Grae’s chuckle skittered through me and I felt him pick up the pace as if it was my own legs burning. I pushed harder into my haunches. The feeling of the wind in my fur and the powder beneath my paws was something close to ecstasy. The bruises and weariness from the battle in Nesra’s Pass lifted and the sudden absence of pain was euphoric. This moment—there was a rightness to it all. Grae chased me just as he had when we were young. A giddy laugh filled me as he drew closer, nipping at my ankles. His muzzle knocked me in the side and I lost my footing, tumbling into the snow.

“Oh, you are so dead,” I teased, his laughter filling my mind. I whirled on him as he bolted in the opposite direction.

In five strides, I caught up to him and sank my teeth into his flank. Yelping, he turned to get me back, but I was already dashing away.

“You’re faster than a snow snake,” he panted, taking off after me again.

My muscles grew heavy, filled with a pleasant burning as I raced through the snow. My heart thundered in my chest. On and on, the minutes stretched by with nothing but my panting breath and the snow beneath my paws. With each passing moment, I felt Grae fall a little further behind.

“Time to slow down, little fox,” Grae panted. “You’re going to pull something and I don’t want to have to carry you down this mountain.”

Our Wolves could walk for days on end, but we weren’t distance sprinters. Our bodies were designed for short bursts of action and long stretches at a slower pace. But I pushed myself right to the brink of pain, relishing the all-consuming feeling of it. In my Wolf form, everything else felt miles away. I was so in my body and out of my mind. I ran as if my troubles were chasing me—Briar, King Nero, even Grae.

“Don’t be a puppy,” I jeered, pushing harder, zigzagging along a patch of slippery ice before plunging back into the snow.

“Seriously, Calla.”

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