Winter (The Lunar Chronicles #4) - Marissa Meyer Page 0,74

closed it. Holding on to the curved handle, he pushed the pointy end through the bars and jabbed Scarlet in the shoulder.

Ryu barked.

Scarlet’s hand whipped upward, her fist wrapping around the feathered fabric. She yanked it toward her and the man stumbled against the cage. She shoved the umbrella’s handle up toward his face. He screamed and reeled back, his glasses clattering to the ground. Blood spurted from his nose.

Scarlet smirked long enough to shove the umbrella out onto the path—there was no point keeping it, as the guards would just take it away. She stifled her smug expression and returned her face to neutral.

This not-reacting thing was working out better than she’d expected.

After cursing and screaming and getting blood all over his shirt, the man grabbed his girlfriend and the umbrella and stormed away, back toward the menagerie’s entrance. They were probably going to rat her out to the guards. She would probably miss a meal or two for her misbehavior.

It was totally worth it.

She met Ryu’s yellow gaze across the way and winked. In response, the wolf raised his nose and howled, a short, joyful sound.

“You’ve made a friend.”

She started. A guard was leaning against a large-leafed tree, arms crossed and eyes steely. He wasn’t one of her normal guards, though there was an air of familiarity to him. She wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“We animals have to stick together,” she said, but then resolved that was as much as he would get out of her. She was not here to entertain the spoiled Lunar aristocrats, and she was certainly not going to entertain one of the queen’s brainless minions.

“Guess it makes sense you’d like that one. He’s related to your boyfriend.”

Her heart thumped. A sense of foreboding stirred in her chest.

Pushing himself off the tree, the guard strolled in front of Ryu’s enclosure. One hand was resting at his belt, on the hilt of a large knife. The wolf froze, standing on all fours like he hadn’t decided whether to trust this stranger or not.

“This one’s father was the wolf they first gathered DNA from when they started experimenting with the soldiers. The queen’s prized arctic wolf. Once an alpha male.” He turned to Scarlet. “But you need a pack to be an alpha, don’t you?”

“I wouldn’t know,” she deadpanned.

“Take my word for it.” He listed his head, inspecting her. “You don’t know who I am.”

He said it at the same moment her memory clicked. The blond hair, the uniform, his creepy knowledge of Wolf.

Her recognition only made her more wary.

“Sure I do. I can’t get the princess to shut up about you.”

She watched him carefully, curious if Winter’s feelings were even half mutual, but he gave nothing away.

He was handsome, sure enough. Broad shouldered and chisel jawed. But he wasn’t what she’d been expecting. His posture spoke of condescension, his expression disinterest. He was all brambles and icicles as he strode toward her cage.

He was about as opposite of warm, spacey, babbling Winter as she could imagine.

Jacin didn’t crouch or bend down and it was a strain on Scarlet’s neck to look up at him. Her dislike increased.

“I trust she told you about your friends.”

Winter had told her they were alive. That they were coming for her. That Wolf missed her very much.

Now, meeting the infamous Jacin, she couldn’t envision him being the one to make that report.

“I got the message.”

Scarlet wondered if he expected a thank-you, which he wasn’t going to get, given that he was here on Luna, wearing that uniform. Whose side was he on?

Scarlet huffed and leaned back on her elbows. It may not have been as dignified, but she wasn’t about to let this guy intimidate her into a permanent neck ache. “Is there something you needed?”

“Winter thinks you’re a friend.”

“That makes one of us.”

After a beat, he revealed a crack in his armor. The tiniest of smiles.

“What?” she asked.

Rocking back on his heels, Jacin rested his hand on the knife again. “I wasn’t sure what kind of girl could make a special op go ballistic over her. I’m glad to see it’s not the stupid kind.”

She curled her hands into fists. “Also not the kind that buys into empty flattery.”

Wrapping a hand around one of the bars, Jacin finally crouched so they were at eye level. “You know why you’re still alive?”

She gritted her teeth and answered, somewhat begrudgingly, “Because of Winter.”

“That’s right, firework. Try not to forget it.”

“It’s hard to forget when I’m locked up in her