Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,114

and his cadre all those years ago.

Whitt’s voice steals in from the hallway. “Let’s hope all the packs who’ve had the benefit of Aerik’s tonic these past years manage to prepare at least half as well as we do after all this time resting on their laurels.” He appears in the doorway, eyebrows arched. “Or, on the other hand, perhaps let’s not.”

“We shouldn’t wish the wildness on anyone,” Sylas mutters at him, but it’s a mild rebuke.

August motions to the plate he brought up with him, now sitting on my bedside table covered with a silver lid to keep in the heat. “You have your dinner whenever you want it. Did you grab a new book so you don’t get bored?”

I motion to the armchair. “I picked out a couple.” Though I suspect I won’t be able to concentrate on either of them.

Sylas comes over to give my arm a gentle squeeze. “We should check with the pack and then get ourselves situated. As soon as we leave this room, engage the bolts and don’t open them until after sunrise, no matter what you hear from the keep or outside. Even if one of us throws ourselves at the door, you should be safe in here.” He’s checked over the hinges too.

I square my shoulders, trying to sound much calmer than I feel. “I understand. I’ll be fine. You just… look after yourselves, as well as you can.”

August shoots me a soft smile, Whitt a thinner one, and the three of them tramp back out, Sylas shutting the door behind them. His footsteps stop in the hall, waiting for the sound of the bolts. I hurry over and shove them into place.

For a while, as the glow deepens from gold to amber and then fades into a mere haze, nothing disturbs my sort-of vigil. I spend an hour or so trying to read one of the books, finding myself gazing at the page unsure of what I’ve just read and having to backtrack more often than not. Then I bring the dinner plate over to the armchair and eat with it balanced on my lap as I peer out the window at the darkening sky.

I can’t see the moon from here, but I can feel it coming in the apprehensive tingling that creeps through my body.

The natural light dwindles completely, my orb-like lamp gleaming on beside the chair. The last of the blue in the sky vanishes into blackness speckled with stars. A warm breeze drifts through the window, wildflower-sweet, but with it comes a distant snarl. The hairs on my arms stand on end.

As if that sound has set off a chain reaction, there’s a sudden thumping from somewhere below me. A rattle as if the windows in one of the lower rooms are shaking. A howl erupts through the night, followed by the scrabbling of claws and gnashing of teeth from the direction of the pack village. Then a wooden groaning reaches my ears—a door straining with the weight of a heavy wolfish body attempting to thrust it open?

I curl up in the chair, my pulse skittering. More bangs and scuffling sounds carry through the floor. I don’t know exactly where Sylas and the others have shut themselves away, only that Sylas intended to keep them all out of this section of hallway. The fact that he put those bolts on my door despite those other precautions shows how wary he feels he needs to be of their potential for violence. Have they broken down barriers they set up before?

How can he be completely sure my door will hold?

The creaking groan starts up again outside—or maybe it’s a different beast in a different building attempting the same escape. Something crashes through the brush near the edge of the forest. A roar of rage splits the air from some distant spot, followed by a vicious snarl, and I suspect two of the pack members didn’t manage to steer totally clear of each other.

The thought of them tearing into each other makes me cringe. I get up and yank the window shut to block out most of the sound.

The sound from outside, anyway. Without that distraction, the noises within the keep come into sharper focus. The smack of a body ramming into a wooden surface reverberates through the walls. Claws scrape against the boards. A strangled growl reaches my ears, angry but also… anguished.

I know how much Sylas and his cadre hate falling into this state, and it doesn’t sound