Page 56 of The Ashpaw: Part One

But Darion did not move, and Fern could feel his eyes upon her. She dared not meet them.

“Send her away.”

Kyntha giggled. “Since when have you ever been shy in front of the Solvekh, hm? She will not bother us.” She reached out to take his hand, but he slipped out of her reach, shaking his head.

“No. No, I…” He stopped, and then cleared his throat. “I think I’ve had too much to drink this evening.”

“Alpha?” Kyntha begged, her voice strained. She grabbed his hands. “Please, don’t go…”

Darion looked at Fern once more before facing Kyntha. He kissed her fingers, and then released them. “My apologies. I will see you in the morning.”

He exited quickly, closing the door behind him, leaving Fern in the ringing silence alone with Kyntha.

Neither of them moved.

“Tell me, does it please you?”

Fern looked up, her stomach still tight, wondering if perhaps she’d imagined that Kyntha had even spoken.

“My Lady?”

“Watching him notice you.”

Her lips parted in confusion, and Kyntha stepped closer. She crouched, not bothering to hold the torn dress together.

“You lower your eyes. You tremble. You make yourself small enough that wolfkin imagine themselves your protector.”

She wanted to lower her eyes now. But she was exhausted, stripped raw by the night, and instead replied with a voice cracked by overuse, “I do not want his notice. I would give anything never to be seen by him again.”

Kyntha’s eyes widened, and the hard set to her mouth softened. There was some flicker of understanding there, that Fern was telling the truth and had never meant to bring any of this on herself.

That there was no act, nor manipulation, nor scheming.

Kyntha looked at the mess still on the ground, the work unfinished.

“Leave.”

For once, she did not need a minute to understand the order. She rose on stiff legs, and walked out of the room as quickly as she could.

It took nearly half an hour to find the servants’ quarters, and once there, she took the pillow and blanket out from under her dress, needing them not for the warmth but for the cover from prying eyes.

So she could melt back into the shadows, where things were safest.

Chapter 15

Fern

She slept with the braids in, and when she removed the linen strips the following morning, her hair fell down her shoulders in loose waves.

Fern allowed herself a moment to admire them before rushing to the bathing room to wash them out—she would not allow vanity to overrule the need for survival.

Maybe in a different life, in different circumstances, it would please her to have Darion notice her. To run his fingers through her hair, and tell her how lovely she looked.

Her wolf certainly liked the idea, and had whined in the back of her mind while she dried her hair with her blanket.

“You’re the one who got us into this mess,” she muttered under her breath. “So I won’t hear a peep out of you.”

Her wolf huffed, then retreated to the darkness.