Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,39

some way to make up for it, but I suspect seeing you is the last thing she’d like right now. The upstairs lavatory could use a good scrub, though.”

Kellan draws back. “You’re not actually—”

“Someone needs to take care of it, and I’d rather not risk anyone else from the pack seeing our guest for the time being. Get to it, and don’t let me find out you’ve been terrorizing the little scrap again.”

Kellan’s mouth tightens into a grimace, his displeasure obvious, but he turns tail and stalks up the stairs without another word.

Sylas rounds on me. “It’s bad enough we can’t rein in the wildness one night out of a month without you giving yourself over to it when there’s no moon to blame. However you may feel about Kellan, he is your cadre-fellow. Every disagreement can’t turn immediately into a brawl, or we’ll make more broken bones than decisions.”

“I know.” I lower my head. “He’s been picking at her so much, and then seeing him menace her physically as well—I had too much anger building up, and it burst out.”

“I don’t fault you for defending her. Just attempt it with words next time before bringing out the fangs and the claws. Go for a run. Let out that energy and clear your head. And do that again the next time you notice tensions building inside.”

“Yes, my lord.”

It’s less punishment than Kellan faced—barely any punishment at all. As I head to the back door to follow his orders, my shame over disappointing him fades quickly.

What doesn’t fade is the image of Talia’s frightened face, the way she gripped her crutch as if she thought she might have to fend us off with it. I bow down over the grass beside the garden, the change rippling through me with a rush of exhilaration the way it’s meant to be when our wolves come out, but my stomach stays knotted.

How many times has Kellan pulled stunts like that when none of us were close enough to catch him? How long will it be before his hostility turns even more brutal?

I don’t think he’d kill Talia knowing what having her alive means to all of us, but I wouldn’t put it past him to injure her, possibly even badly, and count on begging forgiveness. It’s hard to imagine Sylas actually kicking him out of the cadre over an offense against a human.

But she shouldn’t have to live in fear of him… of all of us.

I look toward the orchard, my mind already traveling past it to the fields and forest beyond. Maybe I can find her a real means of protecting herself—just enough to spare her the worst of his malice.

I stretch my wolfish limbs and set off at a trot toward the edge of the Mists.

12

Talia

Taking an afternoon nap is becoming a habit of mine. I’ve started staying up into the early hours of the morning, watching from my window and listening to the footsteps and door clicks that seep through the walls, forming a picture of the fae men’s comings and goings. The nap gives me a chance to catch up on the missed sleep. My body doesn’t seem to appreciate it, though. I’m always groggy when I wake up.

I rub my eyes in the warm sunlight and scoot to the edge of the bed where I left my crutch. I’ve gotten used enough to walking that my bad foot only twinges a bit when I put my weight on it. Since I can’t count on always having the crutch when I need it—as Kellan went out of his way to prove a couple of days ago—I’m trying to lean on it as little as possible. I use it for balance more than anything until my foot starts outright aching from the pressure of walking.

I’ve also been working on moving silently. It’s clear that faeries have keen ears—like wolves, I guess. Sylas came barreling down the stairs to intervene the second August collided with Kellan the other day.

Stealth isn’t easy with the wooden end of the crutch bracing against the hard floor. I set it down as carefully as I can manage, make sure it’s steady before taking a step, and lift it straight up so it doesn’t scrape the floor. I’m going to need to rely on it more when I’m ready to get out of here so that my feet themselves don’t make too much noise with my uneven gait. No matter how I try, my warped foot catches