Page 5 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

I nod and break the spell, and then I back up with a sniff, fasten the top button of my men’s shirt, and twist up my hair.

“Better, my lord?” I say with obvious annoyance, and the wolf snickers.

Bishop’s lips twitch as he realizes what I was doing. Giving an excuse for the privacy spell.

“Remember yourself,” he growls. “You are my wife.”

I roll my eyes, and the wolf snickers again.

“Go stand over there,” Bishop says, pointing. “The men are talking now.”

I would love to say he’s overdoing it, but the other wolf only smiles, seeing a woman put in her place, as she should be.

“Far enough,” Bishop calls. Then he lowers his voice. “Can you hear me?”

While my enhanced hearing isn’t on his level, I hear him easily. But I act as if I can’t, which is what Bishop wants—me to listen in while the other wolf thinks I can’t.

“Good,” Bishop calls louder when I don’t respond. “Now stay there.”

I glower and cross my arms.

“You’ll have your hands full with that one, Danvers,” the man says, his voice carrying a touch of the Emerald Isle. “She’s a Levine. More trouble than she’s worth, and she’s worth a great deal.”

“Don’t talk about my mate.”

“I understand but, sadly, cannot abide by the restriction, as she’s what I’m here to talk about. You’ve got yourself in a spot of trouble.”

“Thanks to your employer.”

The wolf lifts one shoulder. “My employer, yes, but not my master. I’ve come to offer advice to a fellow werewolf.”

Bishop snorts. “Distract me, you mean, while your confederates close in.”

“I’m alone.” He waves to the field beyond the forest. “If Beryl Levine wanted you dead, you’d be dead by now. She’s let you go.” His head jerks my way. “Because of that one.”

Bishop says nothing. The wolf takes that as encouragement to continue.

“Beryl had three daughters. Silas killed two of them—your mate’s mother and aunt. One remains, and she’s as useless as tits on a bull. The only good thing she did was have two daughters. One takes after her ma. The other…” His gaze shifts my way. “Well, she’s no longer among the living.”

My heart clenches as I quickly school my expression before the wolf realizes I can still hear them. I killed my cousin. Accidentally. I didn’t know Henrietta was my cousin, but the death itself was also accidental. She’d tricked me and threatened my human friend, Audrey, but I still regret what happened.

The wolf continues, “That leaves Miss Cordelia, who—as I’m sure you know—is no mere consolation prize. Beryl wanted her back in the fold before she lost Lenora and Henrietta, and after seeing her show of power last night, she will unleash hell to get her.”

“I believe she already did,” Bishop says dryly. “Flames and all.”

“True. That was a temper tantrum, though. Now she’s calmed down, and she won’t do anything to hurt her last hope here. Miss Cordelia isn’t just Beryl’s granddaughter. She’s her heir.” He looks up at Bishop. “You need to give her back.”

Bishop tenses. “My mate is not—” He stops himself, and I know he’d been about to say I’m not chattel to be “given” to anyone, but that doesn’t fit the role he’s playing.

His voice chills. “My mate is not for sale. She’s mine.”

“Proud of that, aren’t you, boy?” The wolf shifts, getting comfortable under Bishop’s hold. “Can’t say I blame you. A feather in your cap, to be sure. Not yet thirty and already Alpha of the Albion Pack, won in a fair challenge. I noticed how few stormed off after you won. You already have the Pack’s support. That’s impressive. And a new bride, too? A beautiful young mate from two sterling lineages.”

“Her father gave her to me.”

“Before you killed him.”

“I earned her, and I’m keeping her.”