Page 7 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

The wolf has the sense to say, “I didn’t mean it like that. But the meeting must be the handover.”

“Because the meeting would be with whoever sent you, and you don’t dare double-cross them.”

Lynch flinches. He saw the trap he was supposed to see—Bishop trying to get access to someone in the cabal without turning me over. And so he missed what Bishop was actually doing—confirming that someone sent Lynch. Otherwise, the wolf would happily take the full five hundred pounds and run before Bishop turns me over.

“No one sent me,” Lynch says. “This is my idea, brokering peace for a fair price.”

“Brokering peace, yes, but it’s not your idea. Some high-ranking cabal member doesn’t like the way this has been handled. It’s likely the same person who pointed out that Cordelia could be killed if Beryl pursues the Pack now. But pursuing her later would still come with a fight, and Beryl may still insist on wiping out the Albion Pack, which reeks of petty vengeance. Better to have me deliver Cordelia once Beryl has calmed down enough to decide Cordelia herself is enough. More than enough if she has a babe in her belly, a witch with even stronger werewolf blood.”

“I’ve heard that about you,” Lynch says.

Bishop’s brows rise. “Heard…?”

“That you think far too much for a werewolf. That’s the Danvers in you. Too much going on up here.” He taps his head. “It’ll get you in trouble. When a Danvers thinks too much, his mind runs to madness. Just ask your grandfather.”

Bishop only gives a humorless smile. “No one mistook my grandfather for a great thinker. I would suggest you keep relying on others for strategy. It’s clearly not your strong suit.”

Bishop rises, pulling Lynch up by the collar. “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me who put you up to this.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’ll give you your reward, though it might not be what you’re hoping for.”

The wolf only curls his lip. “I’ve heard that about you, too. An overly high opinion of yourself. You’re a pup. I let you defeat me in hopes of making it an easier conversation. But since you don’t want what I’m offering—”

Lynch swings.

Bishop catches his wrist easily and leans in. “Thank you. I really was hoping to send back a proper response to your employer.”

Another swing, this time with Lynch’s left, but before it can make contact, he’s flying backward from Bishop’s uppercut.

“Now this is more like it,” I murmur.

Bishop gives a ragged laugh. “Sit back and enjoy.”

This fight lasts only slightly longer. Lynch held back in that first battle, and now he expects easy victory. He doesn’t get it, and that throws him off-kilter, his blows becoming increasingly frenzied.

He should recognize that he misjudged Bishop’s abilities and adjust. In the heat of battle, though, he lacks the mental calm for that, and all he can think to do is hit harder. When that fails, he makes a break for it.

Bishop catches him, and then comes a part I don’t enjoy, even while I know it’s necessary. Bishop beats Lynch until the other wolf is battered and unconscious, lying in a heap on the forest path. Then Bishop drags him into the forest and hides him from any confederates who don’t have a werewolf’s sense of smell.

“That will give us time,” he says to me as he binds Lynch’s hands. “He can break free, but not easily.”

“Would it be dishonorable to empty his pockets?” I ask. “If he doesn’t have any money or valuables, it’ll take him longer to get back to whoever sent him.”

A slow smile and then a nod. “Excellent point. We also need to search him for any clues.”

We do that, emptying all of Lynch’s pockets. He has nothing except dried meat … and money. Nearly a hundred pounds, and I whistle at that.

“Generous travel funds,” Bishop says. “They wouldn’t want him leading us to the cabal, so he might have needed to lie low for a while.”

“It’s money we can use,” I say. “And we had to take it.”

“We did. Let us get the horses and make haste. We’ll need to find a creek to hide our trail, and the Pack will be starving.”

We have three horses now. We find more supplies in saddlebags that Lynch put on Cinder, along with an ill-fitting saddle that has Bishop grumbling and switching gear until all three steeds have a better fit.

As Bishop said, we need to move fast while not leaving a trail Lynch can track. Waterways are the key, and Bishop directs us to the nearest one, following the sound of rushing water. When we’re back on dry land, he speaks for the first time since we left the forest.