Page 128 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

“In a much more profane way, naturally. But it’s something Bishop and I have already discussed at length. We need to draw that line more carefully, and we’d like—”

He stops mid-sentence. I go still, fingers rising. We’re in the darkest part of the forest, and I’m ready with a knockback, but Julius doesn’t say a word. I glance over … and he’s gone. I’m staring into a fog-shrouded forest where it had been clear a heartbeat ago.

I spin the other way, and there’s no sign of Ann, who’d been at my other side.

“Julius! Ann!”

“Shh,” a voice says, and a figure steps from the fog. A woman with gray-streaked dark hair and a face that is achingly familiar, reminding me of my aunt and my mother.

“Beryl.”

Her lip curls. “You even sound like them now, snarling words instead of speaking them.”

“Where’s Ann? Where’s Julius? If—”

“Ann is the redhead, I presume? They’re still here, right beside you. A binding spell plus a little cloaking magic, so we can speak in peace.”

“If you’ve hurt—”

She cuts me off with a deep sigh and sweeps her fingers to the left and right. Julius and Ann appear, both locked in binding spells, as she said, their eyes bright—Julius’s with worry, Ann’s with indignant fury.

Another sweep, and they vanish.

“They’re fine,” Beryl says. “They can hear us, which is important, but we won’t be distracted by them.”

“Where’s Bishop?” I pause. “The wolf at the gate. He’s one of yours, isn’t he. You lured Bishop—”

“—away from you. That is all. Bishop is also fine. Busy having a chat of his own, though his will be far less productive.” She frowns. “What is on your head?”

I reach up, and I startle, touching metal. I’d forgotten the crown.

I take it off and clutch it, and Beryl only shakes her head. Then she glances in the direction of the gates. “The pup has been busy. Very busy. I’m actually impressed.” Her gaze swings back to me. “The same way I’m impressed by the bees who start hives in my garden, working so diligently, making me feel bad knowing those hives won’t last. A little fire, and they’re gone.”

Before I can speak, she says, “And, no, I’m not threatening to burn them out again. That was simply a fitting analogy. Your wolf has been a busy bee. I underestimated him.”

I brace for the mockery that I’m sure will follow.

“What he’s doing, uniting the Packs, is actually beneficial,” she continues. “Strong guard dogs keep the vermin at bay, allowing higher beings to conduct their business in peace.”

I don’t react to the insult. That isn’t a battle to fight tonight.

“If only he wasn’t uniting them to fight me,” she says.

“You just changed his timeline,” I say. “Bishop always planned to unite the British Packs.”

“But having a common enemy does speed up negotiations. Nicely done. I will admit, after he fled Trevelyan, I was ready to chase him down and exterminate the Albion Pack. Calmer minds prevailed and convinced me that doing so risked your life.”

I don’t answer.

“I’m glad I didn’t interfere,” she says. “It’s always nice when other supernaturals do things that benefit my cabal and I don’t even need to pay them for it.”

“Bishop has no quarrel with you or your cabal,” I say. “He understands that what you did to the Pack was Silas’s fault. He also understands that he can’t truly fight you. If there’s any room to negotiate peace—”

“There is.”

I barely dare to breathe. My heart hammers, and I want to ask her to free Ann and Julius because I’m not sure I dare handle this negotiation alone. It’s as if an axe is poised over all of us, and Beryl is saying there’s a way to make it disappear, but I can’t help feeling as if the slightest wrong move will bring it down on our heads instead.

My fingers tighten, and the metal of the crown bites in, and I feel as if I’m back in that throne room, Bishop putting it on my head, telling me how much I’d done, how he couldn’t have done better.