Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,20
along with that volatility, and the wrong word or gesture might send me spiraling beyond my control into some action that’ll harm me more than him.
It would irk me less if there wasn’t a tidbit of truth hidden in that assessment. But I do have enough awareness of the important lines not to cross them… most of the time.
“We’ve experienced it,” he says. “The arch-lords haven’t. They won’t be able to test our claim until the next full moon. And given our circumstances, I’m not inclined to trust them to take our word for it.”
He might have a point there. All the same— “I could smell the same essence as in the tonic from her small wound even through the stink in that room. We give her arm another little nick, and they can’t miss it.”
“It may not be enough. They know—”
Another knock on the door interrupts him. When Sylas calls out, it’s both Kellan and August who peer in.
Kellan notes my presence with a narrowing of his eyes, as if he thinks I’m there on some untoward purpose. I wish that I could scheme with our lord against the jackass. The closest I’ve come—the closest Sylas would ever allow—was a series of stealthy discussions on the matter of whether, given the prick’s clear and growing discontentment, it would be more generous or insulting if Sylas gave him full leave to seek a place in a different pack should he wish to.
The trouble is, as much as I suspect Kellan might wish to, there aren’t likely to be any packs of anywhere near the standing he’d accept who’d accept him. His reputation is the most tarnished of all of us by virtue of proximity to the initial offense, as he no doubt realizes. And perhaps he wouldn’t wish to anyway, since he must know there’s no lord other than the kin-of-his-mate who’d tolerate his unruliness even to the small extent Sylas has.
In the end, Sylas did extend the offer, and Kellan declined. But for all he professed to want to continue serving in this cadre, his disposition has become even more insolent since. Apparently, despite our lord’s best efforts, he did take it as an insult.
“We need to speak about the girl,” he says in that obnoxiously tart voice of his.
“It appears we do.” Sylas motions for the new arrivals to close the door. “Whitt was just advocating that we cart her straight to the arch-lords.”
A flicker of surprise crosses Kellan’s face, which gratifies me for the second before he opens his mouth again. “I agree. She’s the leverage we wanted—we have to make use of her, not waste our time coddling the creature.”
I like my stance less now that he’s joined me there. If he thinks that’s a good idea, maybe it isn’t one after all.
August glares at me as if I’ve betrayed him somehow, his shoulders coming up. He has already taken up doting on the mite, and my youngest half-brother has about as much rein on his temper as a jockey who’s toppled off a runaway horse.
“As soon as we approach the arch-lords, Aerik will know we’re the ones who stole her,” he says. “They’ll probably find some way to take credit for it—the arch-lords might even hand her back to them so they can throw her back into that cage and keep brewing their tonic. Then all we are to them is thieves.”
Oh, we’re much more than that. I don’t think it’ll help the situation to go over our extensive list of crimes in the arch-lords’ eyes, though.
Kellan rounds on him. “What do you suggest we do then? Put her up in our keep as if it’s some fancy hotel while we all cater to her whims?”
A furious light flares in August’s eyes. “Getting enough food into her to bring her back from the verge of starvation and taking her first bath in who knows how many years aren’t whims,” he growls. “If you suggest we put her in a cage like they did, I—”
Sylas stands with a rasp of the chair legs against the floor that shuts August up. Even Kellan draws up short. The newest member of our cadre might like to bitch at all of us, but there are lines he doesn’t cross too, no matter how closely he might toe them.
“There’s no point in arguing about it—from either perspective,” Sylas says in his laying-down-the-law tone. “It makes no sense that a random human girl could have this kind of power. We don’t