Page 41 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

My own arms remain limply by my sides, unable to summon the strength necessary to return the embrace. “All this time, I…“ I fight back a sob, the lump in my throat making it difficult to continue speaking. “We are all such fools. Of course, it was King Warvin. Who else would…”

Resting my head against our friend’s shoulder, I allow the scratchy fabric of their tunic to absorb my tears as I begin to cry.

Chapter Eighteen

Mariane

My eyes dart to the closed curtain behind me when I hear what sounds like a faint sob coming from the room on the other side of it. The same direction Vannaria and Slivo had snuck off together in a short while ago. I’m already halfway out of my chair when a hand grabs my wrist, halting my movements. I look back at Rosaline, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

She shakes her head, her own gaze is pleading. “Don’t, Amara. Leave them be.”

I slowly sit back down, fighting the urge to continue staring at the curtain currently separating me from Vannaria.

Letting go of my arm, Rosaline smiles softly, though it looks a bit strained. “You care about her, don’t you?” Seeing no reason to lie, I nod. “Good, she needs a friend like you. Especially tonight, the information PaMa found out is…” Her smile falls away as she trails off.

Unease and dread mix together in my gut. Vannaria mentioned not knowing who had hurt her in the past. Is it possible Slivo does? Is that what they’re telling Vannaria right now? Or is it something else entirely?

I let out a sigh. I suppose I’ll simply have to wait and see if Vannaria tells me when she returns.

“So, what’s it like being a wolf?” Rosaline asks, obviously attempting to pull my attention away from Vannaria and Slivo’s conversation by resuming our own.

Shaking my head, I force myself to focus on the friendly devilkin and say, “It’s hard to describe, honestly. There’s a sense of freedom to it. Like nothing else matters in the moment beyond letting your instincts take over.” I take a shaky breath. “That’s how it used to feel at least. Less so now that shifting causes my entire body to feel as if I’ve been thrown around by a Drithgal. Which is a feeling I’ve also had the displeasure of experiencing recently.”

“I’m sorry your shifting causes you pain, I know that must make it difficult for you.” She winces in sympathy. “And I imagine your run in with a Drithgal is an interesting story all on its own.”

“It is,” I mutter, grabbing a buttery biscuit out of the basket in front of me to have something to do with my hands. “I nearly died, in fact. If it hadn’t been for Vannaria, I would have.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.” She grins, reaching over to pat my arm. “As I’ve already said, Vannaria needs a friend like you. And from the sound of it, it seems like you need one like her as well. Or them, I suppose.”

Accidentally breaking the biscuit in half, I laugh softly. “And I suppose, you’re right. I do need a friend like her. Although…”

“You’re not just friends, are you?” she asks, somehow anticipating what I’d been hesitant to admit.

Letting out a sigh, I slowly shake my head. “I’m not sure what we are, actually. We only met because she’d been hoping to collect the bounty on my head, but now… Things changed and now here we are. And here I am, unable to sleep without her arms wrapped around me.”

Her dark eyes widen. “Oh. And here I thought you were just going to admit you two actually had fucked before coming downstairs earlier.”

A smirk tugs at the corner of my lips. “Sadly, no. We did fuck, but it was after killing a group of mercenaries on our way into town.”

“I see,” she says, reaching up to scratch at the base of one of her horns. “Sounds like you two could do with a bit of honest conversation too. Perhaps not tonight though. I imagine Vannaria’s not in a great headspace right now.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” the elf in question says, stepping through the curtain behind me and scaring the shit out of us both.

“On that note,” Rosaline mutters, rising from her chair and all but fleeing the room.

Vannaria and I stare at each other for a long moment, my heart breaking when I see the dried tears covering her ashen cheeks. Unsure what else to do, I gesture to the chair next to me. A fresh tear trails down her face as she shakes her head.

“Apologies, Your Majesty. Unfortunately, I’m currently unable to carry you back upstairs.” Clearing her throat, she holds a trembling hand out towards me and chokes out, “I hope what little assistance I can offer you is sufficient.”

Ignoring the way my body protests, I surge up out of my own chair and throw my arms around Vannaria. She immediately buries her face in my neck, her arms falling loosely down by her sides as she begins to silently cry. We stay like that for a long while. Long enough that the muscles in my arms and legs have begun to tremble and her tears have ceased, now replaced by quiet sniffling.

After a few more moments, I quietly ask, “Would you like to head on up now?”

I feel her nod, then she lifts her head off my shoulder and croaks, “I’m sorry. I’m a bit of a mess right now.”

“Shh.” I reach up and brush a thumb over her tear-stained cheek. “If I’m not allowed to apologize for being in pain, neither are you.”

Wrapping one arm around my waist, she sighs. “Whatever you say, Your Majesty.” I keep one arm wrapped around her as well and together we start the long, slow journey back upstairs.