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A River of Golden Bones (The Golden Court, #1)(39)

Author:A.K. Mulford

Putting distance between us made me feel stronger and weaker all at once. I snarled at the Wolf who kept playing over and over in her head what that kiss could’ve turned into. The way he snarled into my mouth when his hand skimmed my ass . . .

“Get a grip,” I growled to myself, startling the birds from the trees.

My eyes caught on the kicked-up leaves beside me. The little dips perfectly placed into the stride of footsteps. A human had been in these woods. I followed the steps, sniffing the air.

There. The scent of worn leather and musk—a woodsman of some sort. He didn’t have the distinctive smell of a Wolf, not that I’d expect him to. Wolves kept to their packs . . . except for me, but the Silver Wolves were never truly my pack. My only pack-mate was half dead in a foreign castle.

I followed the woodsman’s trail. The scent of smoked meats filled the air as a thin track appeared. My stomach clenched, a rumble of hunger shaking through me. The trail opened up into a small clearing with a log cabin in the center. The cabin was unkempt, shutters hanging on by one nail and the weeds climbing the walls. Were it not for the trail of thick smoke billowing from the chimney, I would’ve assumed it was abandoned.

Clothing flapped on a line strung from a window to a nearby ash tree. Perfect. I’d need some less conspicuous clothing. Wearing my shined battle leathers would draw too much suspicion. I crept up to the line—mostly sheets, but I snagged the wool socks before the front door snapped open. I ducked down behind the swaying curtain of blankets.

“Alice? Is that you?” a crotchety voice called.

I peeked up at the swaying aprons and worn dresses. So this woodsman wasn’t alone. I waited until I heard the door shut and nicked the woman’s clothing off the line. I grabbed a coin from my pocket and left it on the ground, hoping they’d find it.

I stood tiptoeing back toward the safety of the forest when I heard the faint scratch of a bowstring being tightened. I whirled to find a pair of brown eyes watching me in the woods.

“You must be Alice,” I murmured, taking in the middle-aged woman and the bow in her hands. I smelled the blood before I spotted the kills at her feet, the brown fur popping up from where she dropped them in the leaves. Rabbits, I suspected.

“And you must be a thief,” she hissed, pulling her bowstring tighter.

“Wait! Wait,” I pleaded, dropping her clothes and holding up my hands. “I left a coin and-and . . .”

“Leaving coins doesn’t mean you can just steal from me.” Her eyes scanned me from the top of my head to my bare feet. “You’ve been stealing from the capital, too, I see.” She chuckled at the royal brocade on the sleeves of the tunic beneath my leather vest. “You can’t fool me into thinking you’re a Wolf just because you wear their crest.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Maybe I didn’t have to try so hard to rid myself of these clothes after all. No one believed who I was anyway. Wolves were tall and lean and elegant . . . I was none of those things.

I trained my eyes back to her arrowhead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to do.”

She paused and lowered her weapon, clearly thinking I wasn’t much of a threat. “Who are you running from?”

“Someone I can’t let find me” was all I said, still holding up my hands.

“Aye. Skin chasers.” She pursed her lips and I didn’t correct her. “I’ve been there myself when I was your age.”

“Who is this?” the man’s voice boomed from the doorway.

I didn’t turn to look at him, still watching Alice and her fingers stroking the fletching of her arrow.

“It’s just a lost girl,” Alice called to him.

I bit down on my snarl at the word “girl.” Correcting someone who was about to shoot me with an arrow seemed like a bad idea.

“Lost all the way out here?”

“I’ll point her the right way, Logan.”

She put the arrow back in her quiver, and my stomach dropped, thinking of Grae and our secret words. Quiver. I almost wanted to laugh at my na?veté, thinking we could carry on like we had when we were young. I felt the loss of that childhood friend all over again.

“She doesn’t want to come in for supper?” Logan offered.

“No,” Alice snapped. “Go on inside, Logan.” The door shut again and Alice folded her arms. “If you had just knocked on the door, we would’ve helped you, but I can’t blame you for thinking otherwise. Sounds like you’ve been given plenty of reasons not to trust.”

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