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A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(111)

Author:A.K. Mulford

I retched, heaving acid into the muck. My throat burned with smoke and bile. Grae spat into the mud, hacking up the smoke from his lungs.

“We killed them,” I wheezed, my words deep and scratchy. I felt the heavy cloak of shame, the inky dark of my choices, and I knew if I leaned into it just the slightest bit more, dark magic would be there staring back at me. I’d led those Wolves into that trap—a gruesome, painfully horrible trap—to save my friends, my kingdom, and myself . . . but I knew only the thinnest seam separated me from the darkness. A part of me thought to move toward it, to gain what it offered if it meant saving more of those I loved, but then Grae was near me, checking me for wounds, and that was all I needed to push away from the darkness, allowing myself to feel the punishing grief of my decision.

“Holy fucking Gods,” Hector said, collapsing into the mud beside us and burying his head in his hands. “I think we’ve just started a war.”

Thirty-Four

We gathered around the kitchen table, pulling up extra stools and crates to sit on. My body felt numb, weightless, as we stared vacantly at each other. The horror of what had just happened whispered across our expressions.

Mina passed Hector a glass of water, then signed, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t think any of us will ever be okay with what just happened.” Ora handed me a wet cloth and fell into the empty seat beside me. “But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t necessary.”

“If you shift?” Navin dabbed ointment on Sadie’s busted lip. “You’ll heal, right?”

“Yes.” She grimaced, swatting his hand away and snatching the vial. “At least faster than you.”

“Why don’t you all shift now?” Ora’s frown deepened, each person looking worse than the last.

“Four Wolves in a moving wagon?” Grae pulled his hair back into a high knot. “That would be a very bad idea.”

Malou had braved the storm to keep us rolling out of town. Others would go investigate the fire, and when they found the bodies, rumors would spread.

“We never saw the Silver Wolves,” I said, making eye contact with each of the group. Each shuddering breath burned down my throat. “They were attacked by Rooks. We played no part in it.”

They all nodded in wary agreement. I scrubbed the wet cloth over my face and neck, pulling myself out of shock and back into my body. The sounds of those fists pounding against that burning door would haunt me forever. I’d led them to their deaths, and it was somehow so much worse than stabbing them in a fair fight . . .

“The secrets of Galen den’ Mora stay with her,” Ora murmured, lifting a trembling mug of tea to their lips.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Wolves risked their tails for humans,” Navin said, bowing his head to Grae and me. “Thank you for saving me.”

“It should have always been that way.” I scrubbed the dirt from my knuckles. “Wolves swore to protect humans. I’m sorry that got lost somewhere along the way.”

Sadie threaded her arm through Navin’s. A strange, dumbfounding feeling settled in my gut. Our expressions oscillated between terror and giddiness. We’d saved them and we’d survived.

“We shouldn’t be sitting in wet clothes on your chairs,” I said, feeling the damp fabric on my seat.

“You almost died!” Ora exclaimed. “I’m just glad you’re safe. You could smell like a wet dog for all I care.” They sucked in a sharp breath, placing a hand on my forearm. “I’m so sorry. Is that offensive?”

I snorted. “We do smell like wet dogs. It’s fine.” I pursed my lips. “I appreciate you taking us in.”

“Who exactly are you?” Mina asked, toeing my boot from under the table to get my attention. “These three are Silver Wolves . . . but who are you?”

I glanced at Grae and he bobbed his chin, a silent conversation passing between us. They’d helped us so many times. We could trust them.

“My name is Calla Marriel,” I said, and the humans gasped, and though it was clear they probably didn’t need the last part, I finished, “I’m a Gold Wolf, twin of the Crimson Princess.”

“Another Marriel child?” Ora gulped. “How?”

“It was my mother’s dying secret,” I said. “A faery granted her dying wish to protect us until Briar’s wedding day.” Grae threaded his fingers through mine. “King Nero said it would be safer to keep me a secret as well, one less target for Sawyn, but now we know he just wanted one less Marriel standing in his way of claiming Olmdere for himself.”