Page 100 of The Ashpaw: Part One

“Why though?” she asked, using the wrap to dry her hair. Reinn guided her to the chair in front of the mirror and took over for her. “It’s not just because of me, is it?”

“I won’t lie and say you’re not part of the reason, but this goes back much further than your unexpected arrival.” He finished wringing all the water in her hair, and threw the linen behind him, not caring where it landed. “Our clans were once at war with each other. Did you know that?”

She shook her head, and then he placed a hand on top of it to keep it still, next taking a comb and running it through her wet locks.

When the comb got stuck almost immediately, he rummaged around on the table in front of them until he found a small, glass bottle. Fern watched in the mirror as he poured a few drops of a rich, golden liquid into his palms, then he worked it into her hair. The scent was rich, hints of smoky amber and spice she couldn’t name.

“I didn’t,” Fern replied. “Why were you fighting?”

He shrugged. “We both have our own sides to the story, but truthfully there was no real inciting incident. Just a number of small offenses that added up over time like dry kindling until something set the spark. A skirmish along the border, of course, between wolfkin who would have called themselves neighbors if not for the invisible lines that alphas who died a long time ago had drawn for their own benefit.”

The comb ran more smoothly now, the gentle tugging making Fern close her eyes and want to purr herself.

“It was only the rise of the Bloodmoons that finally forced us to work together. A mutual foe to find common ground on. And so my cousin was promised to your alpha, and once the mating is complete, we will rise as one and fight against the growing threat to the west and blah, blah, blah…”

Fern opened her eyes, lifting her brows in question, and Reinn watched her in the mirror with a smirk tugging at his lips. “Just making sure you hadn’t fallen asleep on me there.”

She closed her eyes again and yawned. “I’m close, but go on.”

“As you command me,” he said with a small laugh. “Anyway, what it all really means is that I’ve grown up being told that the Sabletail Clan is my sworn enemy, and it takes more than sixty days of pointless rituals for me to see Darion as…” He rolled his eyes. “Family.”

“I see…” Fern said, Reinn needing to keep pulling her head up as it began to droop forward.

“Alright, that’s enough history and politics for one day. Let’s get you into bed.”

“Your bed?”

He picked her up. “I don’t see another one in here, do you?”

Reinn lay her down, pulling a very thick blanket on top of her. Then he gave her a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Sweet dreams, little sunbeam.”

Surrounded by soft fabrics and pillows so plush she sunk through them like they were clouds, she breathed in Reinn’s scent, strong and spicy, and then drifted off to sleep.

* * *

“How dare you bring my omega into your bed?”

Fern was ripped from her dream—something about running in the woods—by the noise at the door, where Darion was currently yelling into Reinn’s face.

Reinn did not seem bothered.

“I did not share it with her, if that’s your concern. Although I think perhaps you should be asking yourself how I managed to keep her in my room without you noticing for nearly eight hours.”

Fern looked out the window, the early afternoon sky now pitch black.

“I was busy,” he growled through gritted teeth.

“Aye, I’m sure the entire castle heard how busy you were.”

Darion grabbed the collar of his tunic, their faces separated by only a few inches. “So you thought to busy yourself with my omega?”

Fern clutched at the blanket, worried this could turn to violence at any moment.

She didn’t want Reinn punished for taking care of her. “Please,” she said on a whimper. “Please don’t fight.”

The two instantly whipped their heads towards her, and Reinn wrenched Darion’s hands off him as he came to her side. “Nothing to worry about,” he cooed, smoothing down her hair.

Darion came to her other side, and then grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her out of the bed. “Never make me look for you again,” he hissed, dragging her towards the door on stumbling feet.