Page 27 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

And the other thing. The logical thing. If Lark’s fate is to be king and I can’t wear a crown, then how am I his soulbond at all?

My stomach drops. I’m not. It’s that simple. He’s not telling a lie because he believes it, and maybe he just got it wrong. Fae deal in bonds, sure, but so do wolves, and I’ve known enough of them not to be able to recognise their mates right away. Lark never seems to leave the café, so the pool of people he knows is pretty small.

What if I’m not his soulbond, but I’m meant to… introduce them or something? What if it’s someone I know?

What if it’s Felix?

The thought is jarring enough to startle a laugh out of me, even as my eyes prickle and my throat tightens. Felix would never agree to that. Besides, he likes a rough-and-ready kind of guy, not—

Not a prince.

Jesus. I scrub at my eyes, turning away from the cottage again, and I don’t hear Grant behind me until he puts a hand on my shoulder. I shout and jerk away, and he jumps back like a surprised house cat.

“Fuck, sorry, I—” He peers at my face, and a frown tugs his lips. “Sorry.”

“It’s not—I’m fine.” I wave a hand at him.

Grant huffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, I’m fucking not,” he mutters. “Lark’s just brooding in there, and I want to ask the witch about my magic, but it feels like a bit of a taboo subject before he gets his head out of his arse and says yes.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“What?” Grant genuinely looks as though the thought has not occurred to him.

“He might refuse,” I say. “He doesn’t want to stay here. Be trapped here. He thinks the alternative is—Both of us will—” I can’t get the rest out. “He gave up his magic for a reason.”

“He’d better fucking say yes,” Grant growls. He glares at the cottage for a moment. “I mean it. But whatever. We’ll come up with another plan. Or two. You were right; we should have been doing that already.”

“I—We—Do you think we can do that?”

“Get her back?”

“Yes.”

Grant shrugs. “Sure, why not? Just have to find her. Get her. Bring her back. Three steps.”

He counts them off on his fingers as I stare at him. Grant looks right back, then shrugs again.

“I… It can’t be that easy?”

“I mean, there are details to consider, I guess,” Grant says, “but if he’s not going to get his magic back, he’s sure as shit going to give us every tip we need to get into the court. If the witch can help me hide what I am, that’ll help. And it’s not like Ophelia’s going to be sitting around waiting to be rescued, is it?”

“No,” I say faintly.

“So finding her might be the trickiest thing because I’m sure she won’t be where she’s supposed to be.” Grant’s lips twitch. “Not like we have to kill anyone or solve a bunch of murders or stop a fae invasion or anything like that. We just have to find one person. No big deal.”

But if Lark gets his power back, he’ll be stuck here. I sigh and Grant shakes his head.

“And then we work out how to break a fae deal after that. If he agrees. A fourth thing, I guess.”

A laugh escapes me, making us both jump, but Grant grins when he hears it. He comes a little closer and nudges me with his shoulder the way that Kieran, Drew, and sometimes Quinn do. I guess he got that from Quinn.

“Having a wolf here would be pretty useful,” I murmur.

“Yeah. Gonna recommend Quinn next time. He’d have a riot.”

“He really killed that fae?” One attacked him and his mate, Asher, when they were at Asher’s flat. Quinn apparently tore his throat out. I suppress a shiver.

“More than one,” Grant says easily. He leans his head on my shoulder. We’re both watching the cottage. “You won’t have to do that. I’ll make sure of it, okay?”