Page 37 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

“Regardless,” Lark says, “you need to be careful.”

Grant studies him for a moment. “Yeah. So do you.”

Grant’s only my age—maybe a little older—and as far as I know, Vlad kept him pretty sheltered, and I think that means we underestimate him sometimes. I’m kind of glad Cassian sent him here. He knows a lot more about the fae than I do, and he’s clearly not afraid to push things too far if that’s what we need.

Lark nods sharply and then heads over to the balcony, where he steps out in silence. I don’t follow. I let out a sigh and drop down on the sofa in the centre of the room. It’s not at all comfortable. It faces the door and even if it looks like a fancy chaise lounge, the cushions feel flat and hard.

Grant wanders around the room. There’s nothing in this part, really, that gives away anything of Lark’s personality. It’s like these rooms belong to someone else.

“I know he’s right,” Grant says, and I tip my head back, looking up at him. Doesn’t matter how uncomfortable this sofa is; now that I’ve stopped, all the walking and stressing is catching up to me.

“About what?”

“About being careful.” Grant gives me a fleeting smile. “I know I rush into things sometimes.”

I shake my head. That’s not really the impression I have of him, I think. Grant sighs and drops down next to me, then pulls a face.

“Fuck, this is awful.”

“Court fae are not known for their comforts,” Lark says. I blink slowly up at him. I didn’t hear him come back into the room. “Remain in here. I wish to check the other rooms.”

“Okay,” Grant says, but Lark stares at me intently for a moment before he turns on his heel and slips into another room. It isn’t the bedroom. I can see that from here, what with the door being partly ajar.

He closes the door behind him. Grant sighs and slides over until our shoulders are touching.

“What are you gonna do about that?” he asks.

“About what?”

“About him.”

I huff. “What’s to be done?” Truth is, I don’t know. What future is there for us? Not that I believe we’ve ever really had one. Not when he wouldn’t tell me the truth.

“You’re just going to let him take the throne here and leave you to go home alone?”

“He didn’t give me much of a choice. He doesn’t have much of a choice.”

“Can we fix that?”

“Grant…”

He shrugs, jostling my shoulders. I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a yawn. “Okay, fine. I won’t bother you about it now. But I’m not going to be the most annoying one with the questions, am I?”

“What do you mean?”

“You think your pack are just going to leave it all alone when we get back?”

“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. The looming headache is truly beginning to descend now, pulsing just behind my eyes. “One thing at a time.”

My eyes close. Grant is silent for a while, then he leans a little heavier against me. “Rest,” he murmurs, so I decide to do just that.

Grant gently shakes me awake some time later. It could be hours, but the gritty feeling when I open my eyes tells me it’s probably been less than thirty minutes.

“What’s going on?” I ask. The words come out all jumbled together.

“I’ve got the rooms next door,” Grant says just as quietly. “I’m going to go check them out. They said some fae will be by later to help us with our clothes.”

“Hmm, okay.”