Page 4 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Prince,

We have your soulbond. Come to the Otherworld, take your rightful place, and she can rule alongside you.

You never should have run.

I collapse against the wall with a gasp.

They do not have my soulbond. They simply cannot, because Dante is my soulbond, and the faint thread that connects us is enough to tell me he has not passed through the veil. He is still here. Still safe.

But I have a sinking, terrifying feeling that I know who they have mistakenly taken in his stead.

Chapter Two

Dante

“Please tell me you’re nearly done in there!”

I roll my eyes at my own reflection and lean over to kick the door. “Just come in if you’re that bothered.”

Ophelia shoves the bathroom door open and lets out a sigh. “I told you I’d help you with that before I left.”

I eye her reflection and shake my head, though I’m careful not to do it too vigorously. Her dress might be black, but I know how long purple dye takes to fade away, and she’s not going to want it on her skin. “It’s fine. I need to sit with it on, anyway. Want me to get out?”

“No, I just think I left—” Her expression brightens, and she snatches up her lipstick from the back of the sink. “Perfect. Budge over.”

I don’t have much choice, bumping into the side of the bath as she pushes me aside with her hip. For all she’s half my size, she’s got that wolf energy when she needs it, and the same lack of concern for personal space.

“You can still come with us, you know,” she says once she’s applied her lipstick and checked for any smudges. “I can text Cecile. She won’t mind me being late if I’m bringing you.”

“I’m not going.”

“Dante…”

I meet her eyes in the mirror. I’ll budge on a lot of things—for her, just about anything—but when I put my foot down, she knows it. She huffs and looks away. “It’s a girls’ night,” I say. “It’s not fair on the others, and besides, I’m looking forward to a quiet night in.”

As quickly as her smile vanished, it returns. “You didn’t tell anyone I’m going out, huh?”

“No, and I’d appreciate you being quiet when you leave so they don’t bother me either.”

Ophelia cackles and goes back out into the living room. I sigh, but I’m smiling despite myself.

Cecile makes time for everyone in our pack, it seems like, even if she isn’t part of it herself. She still comes and works with Vince at his gym. She meets Jamie once a week for coffee, whether they both come to dinner on Sunday or not. And she arranges a girls’ night, once a month, that seems to be made up of a group from all different packs—hers, ours, Alpha Rhea’s…

It’s not that Ophelia and I don’t have friends who aren’t each other. We’ve got a pack full of them. But I know what it means to her to be one of the girls, and I really do like the occasional night alone, just me and my plants and my books.

She knows that, too. She just always feels a little guilty leaving me alone.

Satisfied that all my hair is covered in dye, I adjust the towel around my shoulders and drop my gloves into the sink. Ophelia’s putting her shoes on by the door, balance perfect even with the height of those heels.

“What are you going to do, then?” she asks. “Give your mums a ring?”

“Nah, they’re still in Genoa. I’ll ring next week.” I glance over at the sofa, eyes alighting on the old book sitting on the low table next to it. “Grant lent me a book on fae species. Might see if I can make a dent in it.”

Ophelia hums. Our pack has grown of late, and especially during the past few weeks, with fae who are desperate to be protected should the veil fall. I don’t like to think about it. There’s nothing I can do about it, not with the witch magic I have. I’m good with plants, not metaphysical… whatever.

“Well, if you’re still up when I get in, you can tell me all about it,” she says with a grin.

“Yeah, sure.” I snort. “Let me know if you’re not coming back?”