Page 19 of The Lure of Wolves and Whispers

Keeva’s hand skims my wrist.Are you sure?she asks silently.

I brush her hand away and stand straight. “I’m here to buy magic.”

Just asking for magic is treason—if anyone knew, the gardai could rip me from my bed and execute me just like they executed my mother.

No one moves in the taut stillness; even the crackle of the candle wicks is thunder.

“Magic.” He laughs softly, but the sound is harsh. “If you’re looking for a love potion, I can’t help you.”

“I’m not looking for a love potion,” I snap. As if I would risk my life for something as foolish as that. I’m not a noble daughter and this isn’t the Assay.

He doesn’t so much as blink, but his long fingers stroke thehilt of a longer dagger sheathed down his left side. Every inch of him is carved with muscle from what can only be years of training. He just cocks his head and raises a dark brow.

Spit it out,he seems to dare me.

I swallow hard. “I need enough magic to save a life.”

There’s no sign of emotion in him—no hint of what’s going on behind his dark green eyes except for a quick glance to Keeva, who stands tense beside me.

My sister’s partner shifts as the man takes one step closer. As he studies me, his shadowed mask cracks, if only for a moment—briefly, a look strangely close to grief flashes in his hard stare, there and gone before I can draw my next breath. “I can’t sell you magic.”

My heart cracks.

“If we sold magic to everyone losing someone they love in this place, we’d have nothing left.” He shakes his head, and his hand tightens on his blade. “I’m sorry, whether you believe me or not.”

“Wait.” This wasn’t how it was supposed to go—not when I was willing to riskeverything. I dig out the contents of my pockets, fingers trembling around the scant coins there. “I can pay, I can get more—”

“We don’t need coin,” he says, bristling. “And you knew the risk that we could refuse when you walked in here.”

Ice floods my bones as his eyes lock on mine. I step back, then again. Still, he soars over me, lean ripples of muscle shifting dangerously beneath the V of his black tunic.

Finn’s years of training and knife drills scream through me—

Hesitate and die.

There’s no way I’m letting him get those lethal hands on me.

My hand finds the razor-thin blade at my side. Almost a knife, but longer, and just as light. I don’t hesitate—I hurl the blade at him, and it screams in the air.

Keeva curses somewhere to the side, but my eyes never waver from my target.

A lock of dark hair falls to his shoulder, and the man’s breath catches. A thin line of red traces from his temple to his hairline. One hand goes up to touch the streak of crimson, and his eyes darken, flashing back to mine. “Missed me.”

He closes the space between us in an instant, and I step back until my spine meets the hard wall behind me. Each of his movements is graceful, deliberate, unflinching. Dark green eyes trail along my face as he leans in close enough that his scent washes over me. Smoke and leather, and there’s something else, too, warm and sweetly spicy—sage, maybe?

“You want magic so badly?” An expression I can’t read lights in his scheming glare. Dangerous, but alluring. Like poison in wine. “Then make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

“We’ve got another shipment coming in this week,” Keeva cuts in behind us, reaching for my shoulder. “Weapons. The kind you prefer. And I’ve got a new supplier, one with access to the catacombs out—”

He raises the dagger in his hand to her throat.

“Not from you,” he snarls. “We’ve had enough of your shipments to last a High King’s lifetime.” He nods back to me.“Her.”

Again, I don’t hesitate. “A life for a life.”

Keeva’s breath catches.

The man tilts his head, studying me. He pulls the blade backfrom her throat and moves it lightly, tauntingly along the hollow of my neck, lingering on the silver chain disappearing beneath my neckline.