A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(50)

Grae nodded. “We have the same goals, little fox.”

“Only because I took action,” I snapped. “Tell me, would you be here right now venturing to Olmdere to save your cousin if I hadn’t left first?”

Grae didn’t answer and my lip curled. Maybe he would’ve . . . eventually. But we both knew my decision was what forced his hand. Would he have let me live my days, dying a little more inside with each passing season, until only the shell of a person remained? I’d hoped not, but I wasn’t certain, and that seed of a doubt spoke volumes about how much I trusted Grae right now.

I ran my hand across my collarbone. That protection stone would’ve come in handy over the past few days. Better that Grae have it though, one less way we were tied together. It was his grandmother’s necklace after all. It was meant to be his . . . A sudden thought made my eyes snap up.

“Why didn’t Briar’s protection stone work against the sleeping curse?” My brow furrowed, remembering how it seemed as if Sawyn wanted to crush my windpipe but couldn’t quite do it. “Why did Sawyn’s magic work on Briar and not on me?”

“I gave her that ruby necklace for its beauty,” Grae said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Only your necklace had a protection stone.”

My heart thundered. “And you gave it to me? Not your betrothed?” Grae didn’t answer. “What about yours and Briar’s future?”

His eyes softened. “You still think its hers and mine?”

No. I didn’t. The Moon Goddess had made that much very clear. But Grae hadn’t known we were fated mates when he gave me that necklace years ago, which meant . . . I’d always been important to him, even when I was just a little fox in the woods. He could only protect one of us, and he’d chosen me. The thought made my chest heavy.

“So we’re hiding from Damrienn and Olmdere alike? Great.” I changed the subject, touching a hand to the sticky ointment along my jaw. “The eyes of two kingdoms will be searching for us. I think we should stay with Galen den’ Mora.”

“No.”

“It’s a better cover than us traveling on our own,” I insisted. “The four of us look like what we are—Wolf warriors. Your father’s guards won’t be searching for a traveling group of musicians. They’ll probably be hunting our scents on all four paws and won’t be tracking wagon wheels. Sawyn wouldn’t suspect them either if she catches wind of your plans.”

“We risk revealing ourselves if we stay with them.” Grae twisted toward his pack and grabbed a cloth. “You saw Hector and Sadie. They have probably revealed to the whole camp that they’re Wolves by now.”

“They’ll learn. They can handle it,” I said, watching as he tipped his skin of water onto the cloth. “You just need to remind them. Why would they suspect we’re Wolves? Wolves don’t leave their packs.”

“No. They don’t.” Grae scrubbed the cloth down his blood-stained face. “They don’t abandon their mates, either, but I guess we’re breaking all the rules now, aren’t we, little fox?”

My cheeks burned.

“They aren’t going to help Sawyn,” I insisted. “Look at what just happened to them.”

“Exactly—look at what happened. We also risk endangering them by staying.” Grae stared at me as he scrubbed along his neck.

“I still think it’s a better idea to fade into a human troupe than to travel to Olmdere on our own.”

“And I still think it’s too big a risk.” Grae chucked the cloth onto his bag, his voice dropping an octave. “Listen . . . can we talk about us for a second?”

“There is no us.” The words came tumbling out of my mouth before I could second-guess them. “Not while my sister is lying on that tomb, forgotten in your father’s castle. I won’t forget her the way the world has forgotten me.”

Grae’s eyebrows knitted together. “I never forgot about you, little fox.” He stared at me for a long time and I could tell words were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t speak them.

My tongue couldn’t even move.

He turned toward the tent flap. “I’m going to check on the others and make sure they haven’t revealed our secrets already.”

“Fine.”

Grae took one more step and paused, looking back over his shoulder at me. “You’re my best friend, Calla. You always have been.” His eyes scanned me up and down. “Would it really be so bad? To be mine?”

My eyes dropped to my split knuckles. The pain of his crestfallen face stung worse than any wound. Is that what he thought? That I didn’t want to be his mate? But maybe that was the case after all. Maybe I didn’t . . .

Gods, I’d messed this all up. I didn’t know how much of me was running from him and how much was running toward Olmdere, but this was Grae, my Grae, and he was mine if only I’d let him be.

“No,” I whispered, though he was already gone. “It wouldn’t.”





Nineteen




We gathered around the open fire, skewering the savory breads Ora made onto sticks and cooking them over the flames. It was a lean meal but better than the dried meat and hard cheese that the Wolves had brought with them. I sat between Hector and Sadie, staring into the flickering orange flames and holding my aching fingers out to the fire. The cold crept deeper into me as the sun fell below the horizon, my joints stiffening and needle pricks covering my nose and fingertips.