Page 34 of Let Slip the Dogs of War

Zomo frowns, and her magic probes, but she must feel what I do—that is precisely what Grant’s magic is telling me. If he were in a room with a dozen other selkies right now and I closed my eyes, I do not believe I would be able to pick him out from among them.

“Where is your sealskin then?” Zomo’s frown is a scowl when she turns it on me. “Do not tell me you expect to sit him on the throne.”

Grant snorts, and Zomo’s expression shifts to something close to incredulous. “My husband has it,” he says.

I watch Zomo take that in. I do not know much of selkies myself, outside of the things we would consider common knowledge, and I do not know that married—or bonded—selkies would ever leave their sealskins behind at all.

She accepts it as the truth because of course she must. She believes he is fae. She believes he cannot lie.

And then she turns her attention to Dante. He shrinks back under her gaze, and I hope it is only because she is a stranger. Despite everything, I am still wearing my glamour. Dante has seen me without it before, briefly, and I do not believe he was scared or disliked the way I looked, but if he does…

“You?”

Dante hesitates. “I-I…”

“You brought another human, Your Highness? When your soulbond is already here?”

I clench my jaw. Judgement is the last thing I care about from these fae, but I despise that they believe they are in a position to pass it all the same.

“I want him to see our realm,” I say. It is not a lie, even if it does not answer her question.

“You would choose your pet over your soulbond?” Zomo scoffs, and a growl builds in my chest when Dante huddles slightly away, eyes downcast.

“The pet and the soulbond are friends,” Grant says, swooping in before I can lash out, which I know I should be grateful for. He raises his eyebrows. “You know…”

Zomo’s eyes widen, and a smirk curves the corner of her mouth. “Well. I suppose the human realm is more interesting than I thought. Come, let me accompany you to the castle.”

There is no refusing her; this is what she has been sent to do. Grant hurries after her, throwing Dante an apologetic look on his way past. Dante holds himself distant as we walk again, not looking at any of us.

“I am sorry,” I murmur once I am sure Zomo and Grant are far enough ahead—and deep enough in conversation—that they will not be eavesdropping. “That should not—We should have—”

“It’s okay,” Dante says. His gaze meets mine, eyes big and dark, but I am glad for it. “I just… I wasn’t expecting it.”

“We will find her. You will be back home with her tonight.”

“Yeah,” Dante replies. The word sounds hollow. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.”

Chapter Twelve

Dante

Zomo seems to warm up to Grant fairly quickly. She glances back at me and Lark less and less often, and by the time a town—and the big, ornate castle that sits above it—comes into view, she doesn’t seem interested in us at all.

Lark sticks close to my side. I try not to look at him. Pet. I don’t care about what Grant implied because it doesn’t matter what the fae think of me or Ophelia. We’re not going to be here that long. But my stomach twists at the rumours that will be left behind when we’ve gone.

The fact is, too, that I need to understand what that means to Lark and the other fae. We might only be here for another day, but I don’t want to risk it all by doing the wrong thing.

“She said ‘pet’,” I say, and it might be my imagination, but Lark almost stumbles a step.

“She did,” he murmurs. Neither Grant nor Zomo looks back. They’re not listening.

“What does that mean?”

He eyes them too, and he won’t look at me now, which is annoying. “It is… as it sounds, I suspect.”

Heat rushes through me, even as I feel faintly sick. That’s the impression Lark is going to give, that he would bring along some other human while chasing his soulbond?

Not that I’m much better. Sure, I didn’t know, but I was going to try dating, wasn’t I? God, would I have taken a potential boyfriend to Hallowed Grounds? Eventually, surely. We’re all, as a pack, in and out of there often nowadays.