Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,49
and August steps close enough to grasp my shoulder tentatively before drawing his hand back just as quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you now either.”
“No, it’s just—It’s a lot to wrap my head around.” I touch my pocket. “I really do appreciate the protection. And you just talking with me. That makes everything easier.”
His smile returns, so pleased my heart aches at the sight. “Do you want to come help me whip up some breakfast? You’re my best assistant.”
I manage to laugh. “I’m not sure how high praise that is when it seems like I’m your only assistant.” My insides still feel all tangled up. I inhale again, right to the bottom of my lungs. “I’ll be down soon. I need a minute or two, if that’s all right?”
“Of course, absolutely.” He bobs his head to me and lopes out of the room with typical exuberance.
I find myself gazing toward the window—toward all that open space I still haven’t gotten to experience, even though I’m so much more “free” than I was in my cage. What’s going to be waiting for me in the world Aerik’s cadre ripped me from more than eight years ago? What am I going to do once I get there—how am I going to explain any of what I’ve been through? If I say I was kidnapped by faeries, everyone will think I’m insane.
It doesn’t matter. That’s the world where I belong—the world where men-who-aren’t-men won’t be fighting over how to use my blood. I’ll be able to figure things out one way or another. I just have to get there.
And now I know which direction to run in.
I strap the brace around my calf the way Sylas showed me, take a few testing steps to make sure it’s secure, and then head out. I don’t feel quite as steady as I did with the crutch, but the independence of not needing to hang on to an entire other object makes up for it.
Walking slowly, I feel no more than a slight pressure around my muscles, and the wooden strips across the base produce only a faint scuffing sound. I’ll have to practice until I can eliminate that altogether.
As I come up on the bend in the hall, my balance wobbles. I catch myself with a hand against the wall—and an urgent voice filters through the door just behind me.
“Our forces managed to push them back, but there were a lot of Seelie losses. They’re getting cleverer with their tactics.”
My body goes rigid. I don’t recognize that voice. It doesn’t belong to any of the four men who’ve appeared to be the keep’s sole inhabitants. I thought Sylas wanted to prevent anyone else from seeing me and possibly tipping off my former captors.
But maybe he’s making arrangements for whatever he’s going to do with me next, and that means setting aside a little of that caution.
What forces were pushing back who? It sounds like some kind of battle. I stay in place, my ears straining to make out the response.
Whitt’s dry voice answers, terse in a way I’ve never heard before. “Has there been any recognition of our pack’s contributions?”
“No mention of us so far. It’s been pretty chaotic. I’m not sure how well they’re keeping track of who’s joined the patrols anymore.”
Whitt lets out a sharp sigh. “Hang in there as well as you can. We’re all worse off if those Unseelie bastards gain more ground. Is there anything I could send you back with that might give you an advantage, from what you’ve observed?”
“No, nothing so far.”
“Well, if anything comes up, reach out to me at once and I’ll see it done. Our lord will be glad for any chance of winning some glory in the conflict. You’re dismissed.”
Dismissed—the stranger is about to leave the room? My nerves jump, and I lurch farther away so clumsily my foot brace scrapes against the floorboards.
If I had proper use of both my feet, this would be where I’d make a dash around the corner to the stairs. But I don’t, and I can only imagine the racket the wooden slats would make if I attempted a sprint—if I even manage to run rather than fall flat on my face after a few steps. I scramble forward as quickly as I can while keeping my balance, but I’ve barely moved when the door flies open.
Whitt storms out. He grabs my arm, yanking me around to face him. His ocean-blue eyes remind me more