Текст книги "The wolf king"

Автор книги: Lauren Palphreyman

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Chapter Five

Twigs and stones dig into the soles of my feet as we run into the copse of trees that lead to the Western Gate.

The wind whips my hair into my face, and rain is falling between the branches, seeping through the thin material of my nightgown. The sound of howling and the clash of steel follow us, coming from the outdoor kennels somewhere behind us. The night is thick with the woody scent of fire.

I should be alarmed. Yet all my senses are trained on the alpha’s hand, clasped around mine. I feel the ungodly strength in his fingers, and the callouses that make his hand so very different to my mother’s, the only hand I have ever clasped before this one.

Heat seems to spread from the place where our skin touches and it travels up my arm.

I took his hand willingly. I don’t know what that means, but he will not let go. I am certain of it. He let me make my choice, but now it is made, I have a feeling there is no going back.

A sweet burst of panic surges through me. Am I really going to do this?

The alpha turns and swings me off me feet and into his arms. I yelp, and reflexively hook my arms around his neck. His eyes latch onto mine—bright even in the darkness.

“No time for second thoughts, now, Princess,” he says, rain running over his full lips.

“Put me down, you brute!”

“No.”

He continues onward, through the nursery of ash trees.

Over his shoulder, thick smoke curls into the moonlight from the courtyard. More howls fill the night. And it hits me. This is not an escape attempt. This is a siege.

“You planned this,” I say under my breath.

“Aye.”

The blood in my veins turns to ice.

I may not want to marry Sebastian, but these are my people being attacked by Wolves. And I am willingly leaving with one of them. And he is a killer. They all are.

“Put me down!”

“You don’t want me to do that.”

The small gem of truth in what he says makes my insides twist. “You have no idea what I want.”

“What do you want?”

A strange jolt of adrenaline—of something—floods my system. I don’t have an answer. No one has ever asked me that before. And why should they? It doesn’t matter what I want. Statues do not want, or feel, or need.

The alpha’s eyebrows dip in question, or confusion.

“I want. . . I want you to put me down.”

His gaze moves to the Western Gate that looms ahead, and the corner of his lip tugs up. “No you don’t.”

“You said I had a choice.” Raindrops roll into my mouth.

“Aye. And you made it. And as you can’t seem to tell me truthfully what it is that you want right now, I will take that as your final decision.”

The Western Gate is open—though it should not be—and a group of men in kilts wait on horses in the shadow of the dark whispering trees beyond. They glance in our direction, and the alpha’s arms tighten around me as he stalks toward them.

I open my mouth.

“I’m not leaving you, Princess. And that’s the end of the matter.” There’s a dark finality to his tone. This is a man who is used to having the last word.

“You’re a monster,” I mutter—though I don’t quite mean it. He’s a killer, maybe. But I’m not sure he’s a monster.

“Aye,” he says just as half-heartedly. “So you’d better do as you’re told.”

A hot flash of fury ignites inside me. I want to tear into this man—this wolf—who thinks he can pick me up whenever he pleases. I want to pummel my fists against his chest and shriek until my throat is raw.

The force of this feeling—so unfamiliar—scares me into keeping it at bay. I push it into the cage in my mind, and lock it away.

When we clear the gate, Magnus is waiting atop a horse and my blood cools.

“Got yourself a wee snack for the road?” he says.

“She’s under my protection.” The alpha stalks past him toward a grey mare near the front of the group. “Easy there, Dawn,” he says when the horse whinnies.

Everyone is staring at me, and I must look bedraggled and pathetic.

“Put me down!” I say through gritted teeth.

The alpha slides me to the ground. My nightdress is turning translucent in the rain, and I cross my arms over my chest. His expression softens and he throws the fur cloak over my shoulders, pulling it in around my collarbone.

“Can you ride, Princess?” he asks.

I can. My mother taught me when I was a child. Being on horseback made me feel free. Perhaps that is why my father forbade me to ride after her death.

Keeping this information to myself may be helpful if I need to escape. It is best, I have found, to let people underestimate me.

So, I shake my head.

He lifts me onto the beast. A couple of the men stare at me, but when he growls, they make themselves busy by adjusting their packs, or checking their weapons.

When I’m settled, the alpha’s gaze darts around the shadowy group of eight and his brow creases.

“Where’s Ryan?”

I scan the shadowy male faces and see the boy with the dislocated arm isn’t here.

“The wee lad?” A burly man with red hair and a thick beard shakes his head. “Not seen him.”

“Fuck’s sake!” the alpha curses.

For the first time tonight, he looks worried. He darts a look over his shoulder at the Western Gate, then up at me. He flexes his fingers by his sides.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

A moment later, the boy half runs, half stumbles through the gate and some of the tension in the alpha’s expression softens.

Ryan’s coppery hair is plastered to his forehead and he’s clasping the hand of a brunette girl around his age. She’s wearing the uniform of the kitchen maids, and has an angry scar across her cheek.

My eyes narrow in distaste at the brand on her neck—one of Sebastian’s ways of identifying the Wolves he has working for him in the castle.

“Ah, seeing to matters of the heart, I see,” says the red-haired guy.

“Or cock,” says another, with an arched eyebrow.

A few of the men chuckle.

“Shut up, dickhead,” snarls Ryan, glaring up at him. It does not escape my notice that he is no longer wearing the sling. Wolves really do heal quickly, then.

“Oi!” says the alpha, slapping the back of his head. “Get on your horse, and stop pissing about.” His tone is stern, but there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

In a swift movement, he mounts the horse behind me. The heat of his body seeps through the thick furs I am wearing and makes my skin hum. He reaches for the reins, caging me within his arms.

“Ready, Princess?” His voice is a rough breath on my cheek, and I shiver.

The bare branches of the trees ahead reach for one another over the overgrown road like forlorn lovers. To my right, the mountains are jagged and wild and alive—so unlike the flat terrain of the south that submits to the feet that tread upon it.

The alpha asked me what I wanted and I couldn’t answer.

Now, a word beats fast with my pulse.

Freedom.

I want to be free from my fate.

If I do this—if I can gather intelligence that will help my father win his war—I may be able to free myself from Sebastian.

“Yes,” I say, and some of the tension loosens in my chest.

“Let’s go,” says the alpha.

The thunder of hooves competes with my heartbeat as we ride into the forest.

The man with the red hair appears beside us. His eyes glint with amusement, even in the darkness, as he raises an eyebrow at the alpha.

“Don’t mean to overstep,” he says. “But who’s the lass?”

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Chapter Six

“That’s none of your concern,” says the alpha over the sound of hooves.

He’s leaning into me as we put space between us and the castle, and I feel his hard body against my back. Trees loom up on either side of us.

“It will be our concern if the bastards come after us,” says the red-haired man. “I happen to like my balls attached to my body.”

“I don’t know why,” replies the alpha. “You hardly ever use them.”

The musky smell of horse floods my nose, mixing with the scent of damp earth. I cling on to a ridge at the front of the saddle, knuckles wet and white, my thighs gripping the beast for dear life as it jolts forward. The spindly winter-worn branches overhead provide little shelter from the wind and the rain, yet I’m not cold.

I do not know whether it is the body behind me that keeps me warm, emanating heat even though he is only wearing a sodden shirt. Or the fur he wrapped around me. Or perhaps it’s the speed of my heartbeat, pumping blood laced with adrenaline through my veins.

Whatever it is, I think it is also keeping the fear I should be feeling at bay, too. Because I’m being kidnapped by the enemy, and I don’t even care. In fact, with each tree we put between us and the castle, another knot in my chest seems to untangle. There will be time for fear and panic, I’m sure. Now I feel as if I’m flying through the darkness.

I’m a prisoner. But I’m free. And I wonder how both of these things can be true at the same time, yet know they are.

The red-haired man glances at me again. “She’s a beauty, for sure. That doesn’t mean you can just swipe the lass. What’s the king going to say?”

“What makes you think I didn’t take her on the king’s orders?” says the alpha, and I stiffen. “Not your king,” he adds in a whisper against my cheek.

I frown, confused. There is only one king—unless you count the false king my brother is fighting a war against over on the continent. And surely the Wolves are too unruly, too disorganized, to be fighting for him.

“Because I happen to know what the king ordered us to take from the castle. And I know it wasn’t a bonnie lass in her nightgown.” He meets my eyes. “Who are you? And don’t let this big oaf frighten you.”

“I’m not afraid,” I say.

My voice is quiet. It is drowned by the hooves pounding the forest floor, and the wind rustling the branches, but the wolf’s eyes latch onto mine curiously.

It must be true what they say about Wolves having hearing stronger than the gods intended.

I shiver.

“She’s none of your concern.” The alpha’s tone is firm.

“She’s the princess, Fergus,” Magnus drawls behind us.

A smile spreads on Fergus’s face, too big to be genuine. “Tell me he’s joking. Tell me you didn’t kidnap the daughter of the king. Because I know—I know—you’re not that much of a hot-headed fool.”

The alpha shrugs behind me. His body feels relaxed—despite the jolting of the horse and his hard muscles.

“For the love of the Goddess!” roars Fergus. “Put her down!”

“It’s a bit late for that,” says the alpha.

“They’ll have our hides for this,” says Fergus.

“They’ll have your hides if they catch you anyway,” I mutter under my breath.

I feel the soft laugh in the alpha’s chest. Fergus looks sharply at him.

“This is madness,” says Fergus, exasperated. “They’ll come after us.”

“Aye, probably.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that seeing as we can’t find what it is we’re looking for, the princess can be used as leverage to get it.”

“Oh, aye? Because it seems to me it’s not just young Ryan who’s making reckless decisions based on his cock tonight.”

My heart thumps a little faster at the impropriety of what he’s suggesting. The alpha promised that no one would touch me. I assumed that meant him too.

The alpha says nothing.

“See sense!” roars Fergus. “Put her back! We’ll drop her off at the nearest village if you’re worried about the lass, but—”

A low growl sounds in the alpha’s chest. “She’s coming with us, and that’s final.”

Fergus gives him a long hard look, before glancing at me. An unreadable expression crosses his face. A mixture of exasperation and something else. Sorrow, perhaps?

He shakes his head. “She’s a human,” he says softly. “She’s not—”

“I’m bringing her to the king. I won’t hear any more about it.”

The alpha’s body jerks as he digs his heels into the horse and we speed ahead of the pack, leaving Fergus and the conversation behind.

There’s a shift in his mood. His corded forearms are strained, and a dark cloud seems to hang over us. Self-preservation should persuade me to stay quiet. And yet. . .

“My father is the king,” I say.

“He’s your king. He’s not ours.”

We always thought the Wolves were too wild and unruly to unite behind anyone. The history books say the clans have been at war with one another, as well as us, for hundreds of years.

“I didn’t know you had one,” I say.

“Do you know a lot about Wolves, Princess?”

“If you are anything to go by, I know they are lacking in manners.”

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, aye? Anything else?”

“I know you do as you please. Killing. Stealing. Invading the Southlands.” I think about what Sebastian said, about how Wolves take their women. I remember what Magnus did to that woman in the cell. My cheeks flame. “Doing other. . . beastly things.”

“It seems you have the measure of us, Princess. We’re all animals up here. Running rampant around the mountains. Howling at the moon. Eating princesses for breakfast.”

I tense and he laughs.

I don’t know whether or not he is joking. The church says Wolves hunt our kind when the moon is full. What’s more, there are many stories of Borderlands men being sent north to protect our lands, and only their bones being found, months later.

“Do you eat people?”

He laughs again. “Hush, we’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

That doesn’t sound promising. And yet, I cannot quite stop myself from wanting to provoke him anyway.

“Did you hit your head when you were in that fighting ring?”

“Huh?”

I gesture to the right, remembering that the mountains were on that side of us before we entered the trees. “The north is that way, you fool.”

“You know, not many people speak to me like that.”

“Not many people kidnap me and hold me hostage.”

“I’m not people.” His lips are close to my ear, and his warm breath tickles my cheek. “I’m an animal, remember.”

I shiver, something stirring deep inside me. I open my mouth to retort but he shushes me.

“We’re heading west for a few miles. If we go north right away, we’ll hit the Border Wall. Now shush. We’ve a long ride, and you’re giving me a headache.”

We ride throughout the night. The steady sound of the hooves and the low murmur of conversation from the Wolves behind us adds a soft lull to the crisp air.

My head keeps rolling on my neck as I fight sleep. My body was tense and alert when we started this journey. Now, I do not have the strength to keep myself upright. I sink back into the alpha’s chest, as improper as that might be. He’s so warm against the chill in the air.

When we clear the forest, though, my eyes jolt open and I sit upright, a wave of wakefulness surging through my body.

The sun is rising, painting the sky pink, and the rain has stopped.

We’ve reached the high stone wall that separates the country of the Wolves from the rest of the kingdom. And part of it has been brought down. Through it, there’s an expanse of rugged terrain that stretches as far as the eye can see.

I could see the distant north from my chambers in Sebastian’s castle. But up close, the scenery is even more breathtaking.

The grass is a green more vivid than I have ever seen, interspersed with fern and heather that rustles in the breeze. Small lakes, filled with dark water, reflect the sunrise. And the shape of the land. . . it looks almost unnatural for land to be shaped this way. Hills and mountains burst up from the earth as though they are alive. The ones in the distance touch the clouds. And. . . is that snow upon some of the sharp peaks?

The air smells like grass and rain, and it’s so crisp I can taste it.

“We ride to Loch A’ghealach, then we rest the horses.” The alpha’s voice cuts through the silence.

He digs his heels into the mare and we’re flying, leaping over the crumbling pile of rock. I gasp as we clear the border wall, and I feel the alpha smile behind me as we leave my homeland behind.

“Welcome to the Northlands, Princess,” he whispers.

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Chapter Seven

I was a sickly child.

The High Priest said my weak temperament came from my mother. Bad blood, he’d said. It was thought I would die of the same illness that took her.

Before that haze of death and burning herbs and the blurry insides of the room I didn’t leave for months, I remember my mother taking me to the countryside in the south. It was just her, and her lady-in-waiting, and me.

I must have only been about four, but I still remember the fields of golden crops, and the rolling hills—scattered with farms and small villages—and the cabin in the woodland by a great blue lake that we stopped at.

I suppose our early memories shape us in some ways, and I wonder if that small taste of adventure stirred something inside me all those years ago. Something I buried within me. Something that set me on a path that would one day lead me here—sitting on the back of a large grey horse, caged within the arms of the enemy, surrounded by Wolves.

My captors talk among themselves as we ride for what feels like hours. The sun rises high into the sky, and we don’t stop, though I am weary and the horses are slower. I wonder if the Wolves are worried they are being pursued.

They should be.

Sebastian and my father will have sent people to retrieve me by now. Not because they care that I have been kidnapped. But because both men need me to secure their future alliance. And because both need me untouched.

I don’t know how I will feel if they find us. I do know my captors will meet certain death.

If the alpha is worried, he doesn’t show it. He remains silent, but he feels at ease behind me, his body pressed against my back, my thighs held within his.

It is highly inappropriate for us to be this close, for him to be this familiar with me. Every time the thought occurs to me and I stiffen, trying to put some space between us, he nudges me back again. After a while, whether it’s the lull of his warmth, or the ache in my bones, or the fact I am distracted by the surrounding terrain—I stop bothering.

I find myself thinking about my memory of the southern countryside once more. The scenery back then, which filled me with such awe at the time, was so. . . soft compared to what we pass as we ride deeper into the Northlands.

The grass I played in with my mother was trimmed, the sunlight was warm and kind, and the hills were curved and gentle. Even the lake, which seemed to me like it stretched on forever, was blue and soft and still.

Here, the landscape is alive.

It is rugged, and harsh, and dangerous. The mountains jut out of the earth in stiff, jagged peaks, and the grass on the sides of the rocky road is so long it tickles my feet. Above, the sky is filled with rolling grey clouds that cast shadows on the land as the wind howls. Even the air has a harsh bite to it.

There is nothing gentle here.

Before long, it seems, the sun is setting again—and I remember my mother’s lady-in-waiting telling me stories about how the gods and goddesses of the night staked their claim on the Northlands before they went to rest, making the days shorter and the nights longer so the creatures that revered them had more time for worship.

A shiver ripples through me as the shadows lengthen.

The alpha’s arm momentarily tightens around my waist as if he senses it.

Soon, the sky is a dusky blue, and we’re stopping at the edge of a great loch surrounded by mountains. The water is so black it looks bottomless, and it churns in the wind.

“A word,” calls Fergus, gesturing to a copse of evergreens by the shore as he gets off his horse.

The alpha sighs, his breath tickling my cheek. “Aye. In a minute.”

He dismounts the horse, and the coldness wraps around me in his absence.

“Need a hand, Princess?”

I don’t answer him as I glance down at the earth. I’m aching, and I’m not wearing shoes. I do not want to seem weak, though. I take a deep breath, then shift my leg over the beast. Before I can jump off, the alpha grabs me by the waist and lifts me down.

When my feet touch the ground, my legs crumple and the alpha hooks an arm around my front and pulls me into him.

Damn it.

“Steady, Princess,” he says. “I suppose you’re not used to riding. Never mind. I’ve got you.”

He scoops me up into his arms while the other men dismount around us.

“What are you doing?” I snap.

Those nearest to us avert their eyes, some grabbing flasks from their packs to fill at the loch, others gathering branches to make a fire on the bank.

“Stop manhandling me! I’m quite capable of walking by myself.”

“Aye. I’m sure you are. But as I’m already carrying you, I may as well put you down by this nice tree over here.”

He gently places me by a tall evergreen away from the group, where the sweet scent of pine is thick in the air. The earth is hard and cold. When he stands and whistles at Ryan, I pull my knees to my chest beneath the fur cloak.

The alpha crouches in front of me, and a wave of his heat washes over me once more. The warmth must be a wolf thing, because he is only wearing a damp shirt over his kilt.

“Back in the castle, I told you that if you ran, I wouldn’t chase you. I need you to know that is no longer the case.” In the dusk, his eyes are the color of the deepest part of the forest. “If you run, I will catch you. We’re not in the south any longer. Understood?”

We’re in the middle of nowhere. I have no idea where I am. Where does he think I would run to?

I give him a look. “I’m not a fool.”

“No. I’m sure you’re not.” He glances at my hair, which must look like a tangled mess right now. “You do have fire in your soul, though. So be good, okay? I’ll be back in a moment.”

He stands before I can retort, and whistles again. Ryan walks over, tailed by the girl he rescued from the castle.

“Get the princess some food and water. And keep an eye on her. This is important, so no pissing about.”

Ryan lifts his chin, chest puffing out slightly as he solemnly nods. “Aye. I will take care of her.”

The alpha glances at me, the corner of his lip slightly lifting, before he stalks across the camp to Fergus.

Ryan hurries to his horse, gathering supplies from his pack, while the girl merely stares at me warily. I avert my gaze from the brand on her neck.

“Hello,” I say. “I’m Aurora.”

“I know who you are.”

Hostility radiates from her. I understand why. I am betrothed to the monster who must have captured her.

Even though our people are at war, I do not want her to think me a monster too.

“What is your name?” I ask.

“That’s none of your concern.”

Something hardens inside me. I was trying to be nice.

Before I can respond, Ryan is back, passing me a stale loaf of bread and a leather flask filled with water. All I can think about is easing the gnawing ache of hunger that’s been building in my stomach all day.

“Thank you,” I say, gulping down the ice-cold water.

I stare at the bread for a moment before deciding there is no ladylike way to eat it. I tear into it, washing it down with another swig from the flask.

When I’m done, the girl is still eyeing me warily. Ryan, however, seems relaxed beside her.

“How is your arm?” I ask him.

Slowly and stiffly, he stretches it out—clenching his fist a couple of times. “It’ll be alright. I’ll be fighting again in no time.” Even in the growing darkness, I see the flush in his cheeks. “I. . . er. . . Thank you for what you did for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m sorry you were in that position.”

When his female friend whispers something in his ear and tugs on his good arm, he nods, then glances at me. “We’ll be over here if you need anything.”

They go and sit a few feet away.

“She’s alright, Becky,” I hear him murmur to her. “She’s not like the others.”

The men sit around the fire, drinking an amber liquid that I think is alcohol. They’re far enough away that I can’t hear their conversation. Though I can see the looks they throw at me every now and again, some hostile, others curious, others predatory.

By the water, the conversation between the alpha and Fergus seems heated. Fergus gestures wildly, and the alpha’s face is like stone. When the red-haired man points at me, I avert my gaze.

I am clearly unwelcome here.

I do not know how long I sit here, the conversation and laughter becoming more raucous around the fire. The alpha has stepped into the trees with Fergus, and Ryan and Becky are now deep in conversation.

Every part of me aches, yet I am alert as a rabbit surrounded by Wolves.

I feel horribly alone.

When I accidentally catch Magnus’s eyes, a slow grin spreads across his face and he says something to the ratlike man who sits beside him. I quickly look away, pulling my knees closer to my chest.

They both get up and saunter over, and my pulse begins to race. I can smell the alcohol on the air and see the intent in their eyes—even in the near darkness.

Ryan jumps to his feet. “Magnus—”

“Sit down, lad,” says the ratlike one with a grin, brushing him aside. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” says Magnus as he prowls forward. “It’s cold out here. Perhaps you can keep us warm.”

My insides twist. “You’re disgusting,” I say, pushing my back closer to the tree, grasping along the ground for something, anything, I can use as a weapon.

“Now, now, that’s not very nice,” slurs Magnus. “We’re only being friendly. I can think of much better uses for that pretty little mouth than insulting us.”

My fingers close around a rock as he gets closer. My pulse is racing as I stumble to my feet.

“Leave her alone,” says Ryan.

The rat pushes him back.

There’s a crunch as the alpha steps on a twig beside me, and his warmth wraps around me.

“If you’re cold, Magnus, there’s some whisky in my pack that’ll warm you up,” says the alpha. “I suggest you go and drink it before you and I have a problem.”

His tone is easy, but the sleeves of his shirt strain against the muscles in his arms and his jaw is a hard line.

A hush falls over the camp. The air is tense as if the rest of the Wolves sense that blood might soon be spilt.

But then Magnus cracks a grin. “Hear that, lads? More drink for everyone!” He slaps the alpha’s arm before sauntering off to collect his prize.

The alpha watches him go before sitting down by the tree. When my breathing has steadied, I sit down beside him, my fingers still curled around the rock.

His profile is stern as he watches the others. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t reassure me. I suppose there is no point. He has probably realized the same thing I have.

I am in danger here.

I have made a terrible mistake.

Dread curls in the pit of my stomach as I stare at the group of Wolves. The night becomes darker, and the conversation becomes quieter. Gradually, snores add to the crackle of the fire and the lull of the wind.

Though my eyelids are heavy, and though the alpha sits beside me, I do not dare close them—not even for a moment.

When the last of the Wolves has fallen asleep, the alpha stands.

Up, he mouths, gesturing with his head.

He holds out his hand. I frown, but cautiously, I take it. I wince when the sharp stones dig into my already sore feet. The alpha’s eyebrows dip. He puts a finger over his full lips, then scoops me up again.

This time, I do not protest for fear of waking the others.

He takes me to his horse, tied to a tree a short way from the sleeping pack, and puts me in the saddle before mounting behind me. Before I can ask him what’s going on, we’re riding away from the others.

I look over my shoulder. Only Ryan stirs, but when the alpha pushes his finger to his lips, he nods and settles back down beside Becky.

“Where are we going?” I ask when the camp is a small dot on the other side of the loch.

“We’ll be making the rest of the journey back alone,” he whispers roughly against my cheek. “I won’t have them threatening you.”

“You can’t just tell them to leave me alone?” I say. “I thought you were supposed to be the big bad alpha.”

He lets loose a quiet laugh. “Aye. I suppose I am. But what did you notice about their kilts?”

I think of the different patterns the eight men were wearing—some blue, some green, and only Ryan’s red like the alpha’s. “You’re from different clans,” I say. “You’re not their alpha.”

“No, I’m not. And while some respect my status, others. . . less so.”

“Like Magnus,” I say bitterly.

“Aye,” he agrees darkly. “And if he were to directly challenge me, I couldn’t let it stand. But when I’d killed that despicable prick, it would really damage what we’re trying to do here in bringing the clans together. It’s for the best that we make our own way.” He pauses. “Because I really want to kill that despicable prick.”

Something warms in me at that—though I realize it’s not very ladylike to revel in the idea of someone being killed.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my chest feeling a little looser.

His arm tightens around my waist. “I’m taking you to the Wolf King.”

A spark of panic ignites inside me. Curiosity pulses through me, too. “Who is the Wolf King?”

“You’ll see.”

“And what? You’re just going to hold me for ransom for something you think Sebastian has stolen from you?”

“Aye.”

“What do you think he has?” I sigh, and my breath mists in the darkness before me. “What exactly is going on?”

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