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A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(16)

Author:A.K. Mulford

I knew love matches were rare in the Wolf world and fated mates were even rarer. Humans had much more freedom to marry who they wanted, be who they wanted, and all the Wolves got was to rule over them.

“Tell us more about the capital,” Briar urged, making Maez grin.

She bowed her head and launched into her tales of the sprawling silver city of Damrienn, of the moon temples and marketplaces, the theaters and bakeries. It sounded magical. I listened to Maez’s soothing baritone as my eyelids grew heavy, the lack of sleep catching up to me. As the carriage swayed, my head bobbed until I couldn’t hold it up any longer. Leaning my head against the backrest, I left my sister to indulge in her conversation with the attractive royal guard.

As the dirt roads switched to cobblestones, I jostled awake. Rubbing my hand down my face, I squinted at the gilded door frames and elegant wallpaper.

“We’re here,” Maez said, as Briar threw back the velvet curtain.

My mouth fell open as I stared out at the sprawling city of Highwick. I knew it would be bigger than Allesdale, but it was gigantic, twenty times the size at least. Steepled rooftops stretched into the clouds, silver pennants waved from tall windows, and doves flitted from glinting temple spires. We rolled through the towering iron gates, soldiers watching us from high parapets guarding the western road.

The majesty halted at the overwhelming scent of fish and filth. Gagging, I withdrew from the window. Piles of rubbish and buckets of fish guts filled the streets as we wound our way through the markets. Fishmongers removed their woolen caps in silent greeting while others waved from arched windows. People crammed the streets, an overwhelming press of bodies.

Briar propped her elbow on the window ledge, waving back to everyone with a practiced smile, while I fought the urge to tuck my nose into my tunic. Children with soot-smeared faces paused their play in the streets to gawk at the golden parade, while some of the older townsfolk ignored us, probably used to seeing processions every time the royals moved in and out of the city.

We passed through a rundown square where the human temples circled a trough overgrown with algae. My eyes trailed the symbols carved over the archways and the small altars filled with melted candles. The humans had a god for just about everything. Wolves prayed to nature: the moon, the sun, the earth, and the sea. But the humans prayed for things: love, wealth, courage, children, vengeance, health . . . dozens and dozens of amorphous concepts, so many I couldn’t keep track. They even prayed to us Wolves, for all we had done to rid the world of monsters at the dawn of Aotreas. Our people had driven out the beasts and fought back the sorcerers, bringing peace to the continent. It was why we ruled each of the four kingdoms. We were the protectors of the realm.

That didn’t mean they loved us. Some humans outright scowled at us as we passed crammed dwellings and streets filled with debris. Not all humans saw us as protectors anymore. I frowned up at a sign in a high window reading No Skin Chasers. It was a slang term for Wolves with a predilection for human company. It didn’t matter that the vast majority of Wolves stuck to their pack and didn’t mix with humans. It always ended badly. Though humans and Wolves of each kingdom spoke roughly the same language, their cultures were entirely different. The names humans used, the foods they ate, the things they valued—all different to those of the Wolves.

The stench of the fish markets ebbed as we carried on, giving way to the scent of sunbaked limestone and fresh summer flowers. The city morphed into elegant townhouses and neat rows of pink, blossoming trees. A giant fountain sat in the center of the Wolf quarter. Carved Wolves decorated the silver facade, spitting crisscrossing arches of water. I hung halfway out the window to gawk at the fountain as we passed. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before, large enough to be a lake. More and more Wolf symbols covered the public spaces as we ventured through the heart of the city. The most elegant buildings had paw prints carved in the stone railings and banners of Wolf silhouettes flapping in the breeze. They must belong to important Wolf families, the courtiers who served the king—my future pack mates.

The further we pushed into the vast metropolis, the taller the buildings grew, until we reached the soaring stone castle. It had seven silver spires that shot like needles into the sky. Stone wolf heads howled above sculpted stone windows, and flying buttresses held up the giant palace that gloriously reached into the clouds. But it was something beyond the castle that made me suck in a breath.

A lush summer forest stretched out toward snowcapped mountains on the horizon. The rolling, verdant greenery beckoned me. It would take a lifetime to memorize every tree and stream in that wilderness, and I couldn’t wait to do exactly that. The itch to shift and go explore grew with each turn of the carriage wheel. Vast forests circled all four of the capital cities for their Wolves to run in, but I couldn’t imagine any forest being larger than this one. Soon, I promised myself. Soon I’d be able to run in the forests of Highwick.

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