Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,21
that same riddle he kept spouting off about before. For some unfathomable reason, he seeks a sacrifice from a willing human. But what’s even harder to imagine is his assumption my father will…will…
Throwing my head back, I erupt with laughter. “You think my father will be grateful to have me returned unharmed. Me!”
He frowns, eyes narrowing to slits. “That’s the entire point of phase two,” he says, although his tone is stripped of bravado. “If phase one fails, we target someone back home who desperately loves our captive.”
It takes several moments to sober from my laughter, and when I do, I can still hardly form my words. “That may have worked for you before, but it won’t with my father, I promise you that much.”
“It’s actually never worked before,” the fae at the bureau whispers, scratching his dark beard.
The alpha burns him with a glare. “That doesn’t mean we won’t try. It’s a solid plan.”
“You picked the wrong girl, wolf man,” I say, shaking my head as my laughter renews. “There’s no sacrifice small enough that my father would make for me.”
Especially if he thinks I’ve landed in yet another scandal. I keep that part to myself, of course.
His face burns beet red beneath the scruff, lips peeling back into a snarl. “Then you can simply rot in here forever!” With that, he turns and stalks out the door, hobbling on his staff. His two henchmen follow, eyeing me with disdain before they turn off the light and close me into darkness.
8
In the absence of my adrenaline, fear, and even my momentary amusement over the wolf fae’s ridiculous plan, all I feel is cold. It seeps through my bones, chills my legs where my dress and petticoats have absorbed moisture from all the snow I traipsed through while running from the wolves. Strands of my damp, dark hair have come loose and are plastered to my cheeks. I can hardly feel my sodden feet in my boots, which might be a blessing, for I’m sure they will ache when feeling returns to them.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I crane my neck this way and that, taking a deeper investigation of my surroundings. There are two large windows, both of which have the heavy curtains drawn shut to block the light, allowing only the palest haze to creep through. At the edge of my periphery, I see a bed, one that was probably once elegant with its four carved wooden posts and its thick brocade blanket. However, I can tell even in the dim light how dusty it is.
I scan the rest of the room, noting the bureau, hearth, wardrobe, wash station, sitting area, all equally as unused and unkempt. It makes me wonder if these wolf fae have broken into an abandoned vacation home and took up residence to plot their vile schemes. I still can’t imagine what would possess the wolf creatures to go through the trouble of trying to tease a sacrifice from a human. Is it just for fun? Is this what the fae do when they’re bored? Or is there an actual reason?
And don’t even get me started on that despicable alpha wolf. Even in this dark room, I can still see that stupid smirk, hear his grating voice when he tried to dictate the ransom note. Fool. They’re all fools.
Ugh. I suppose I’m the bigger one for being caught by them.
The door creaks open, making me jump with a start, pulse racing as I steel myself for the next confrontation. Light shines from the hall, casting the figure who enters the room in shadow. I frown, seeing how much shorter this one is than the three I met before. The figure lifts a hand toward the wall, and the lights in the room begin to glow, orbs of light hovering above several sconces that look like oil lamps. But like the electricity in Vernon, I know it comes not from oil but from the ley lines that traverse the land. Fae magic.
The figure shuts the door and leans against it, a tray in his hands, eyes wide and assessing. That’s when I realize it’s a boy. A young boy, looking no older than eight. Dressed like the street urchins I saw in Bretton, he wears too-short trousers, worn boots, fraying suspenders, and a tan shirt that was probably at one point white. Upon his head of overlong hair is a gray cap, sitting just above his pointed ears.