Page 68 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

I hear a chair clattering to the floor a fraction of a second before I’m being drawn into a tight embrace. “I’m going to kill that bastard. Both of them,” my mother snarls, her skin vibrating against mine, as if fighting the urge to shift.

“No, Mother. You’re not.” I hug her back just as fiercely, needing her comfort as much as she’s about to need mine. “I am.”

“With my assistance, of course,” Vannaria says, likely hoping to ease my mother’s worries.

I’m expecting more tears, perhaps even anger directed towards Vannaria and I for having such a foolish plan. Yet, I’m completely and utterly baffled when the woman hugging me so tightly my breathing is being cut off bursts into laughter. Although it’s not a joyful sort of laughter by any means.

No. It’s the type that mixes with sobs as my mother chokes out, “My Little Wolf, as fierce as ever. How was I foolish enough to not assume that would be your intent?” Pulling away slightly, she shakes her head ruefully. “My daughter, the girl who was begging me for a sword before she’d even reached her fifth year and able to defeat grown men by her tenth. I’m amazed that either of them are even still breathing as we speak.”

“If I’d had access to my magic, they wouldn’t be,” I grumble, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, wishing I could wipe away the pain buried deep inside me as well. “The first three years weren’t so bad, at least. I was careful and had been able to escape into the city fairly often. Father hardly even cared the few times I’d been caught. Mostly just spouted off empty threats when his men drug me back to the estate. But the last two…”

Bile rises in my throat at the memory of Garin’s hand on me. The first time he…

“Your daughter will have her vengeance, Sera. I promise,” Vannaria says, her tone filled with both assurance and determination. “Just as I will have mine.”

“Together,” I whisper, reaching over to cup her cheek.

My mother rises up from where she’d been crouched in front of me, wiping away her own tears. “Well, I don’t know about the two of you, but I could use a real drink now.”

She picks up her discarded chair before retrieving a bottle of some sort of liquor out of the cabinet above the stove. Without waiting for permission, she pours a healthy portion of it into Vannaria and my cups, then presses the bottle to her lips and drinks several gulps of the alcohol herself.

Sharing a bemused look with the elf next to me, I shrug and lift my own cup, downing the entire contents. Even though it’s mixed with lukewarm tea, I enjoy the way the strong liquor burns my throat. Raising a brow, Vannaria follows suit, maintaining eye contact with me over the rim of her cup while so does so.

Heat from more than just the alcohol begins pooling in my belly and it takes considerable effort not to lean over and kiss her.

And, of course, my mother chooses this exact moment to slam the bottle down on the table and say, “Alright, that’s enough painful conversation topics for one night. Now I wanna hear the story of how you two fell in love.”

My small squeak of surprise is thankfully overshadowed by the way the woman beside me begins choking on the liquid she hadn’t quite finished swallowing. Quickly lowering her cup back to the table, Vannaria gives me an adorably panicked look while she clears her throat and mutters, “Ah, I’m not sure if… Um…”

“Choose your words carefully, Vannaria. Wouldn’t want my mother to get the wrong idea about you.” Unable to hold back the smirk curling at my lips, I reach over and slip my hand under her breastplate, carefully pulling out the bounty notice she still keeps tucked inside the hidden pocket. “Now would we?”

Scowling, she crosses her arms over her chest and sinks a bit lower in her chair. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you tell her?” At my raised brow, her cheeks begin to take on a purplish hue and she mumbles, “Your Majesty.”

I’m so enraptured by the way her face begins to faintly glow that I hardly even notice my mother’s amused giggling until she says, “Oh my. You poor girl. And here I thought a normal blush was hard enough to hide.”

Raising a hand to her cheek, Vannaria’s face twists into a grimace. “Is it truly that noticeable?”

Placing a kiss on her opposite cheek, I whisper, “You’re quite literally glowing. And my gods, what a glorious sight it is to behold.” Of course, that only makes the glow that much brighter and brings what I imagine is an equally bright smile to my face. “Lucky for you, it’s put me in a charitable mood.”

I hold the bounty notice out to my mother. “My father is also responsible for this. Which I was a lot more upset about before it led to me meeting Vannaria.”

With furrowed brows, she takes the paper and carefully unfolds it. Her eyes slowly trail over the page, widening once they reach the bottom. Then her jaws fall open in shock and she gasps. Another expected reaction.

One hundred and twenty thousand gold.

To be honest, I’d been a bit shocked to see that amount as well. The original bounty had only been worth twelve hundred, but the amount has slowly risen over the last two years. It seems my father’s grown quite a bit more desperate the longer I’ve been gone. Or perhaps it’s not him that…

I shake my head, banishing the horrid thought before it can begin to fester.

I’m fortunate really, that the artist who’d drawn the sketch of me had done such a poor job of capturing my likeness. If they hadn’t, I likely would’ve been captured a long time ago. Well, at least more attempts would've been made.

Thirteen. That’s how many mercenaries had been foolish enough to try, and all of them paid with their lives. They’d also all been men, up until Vannaria. Kelv had made fourteen, knowing he would’ve no doubt turned me in as soon as he’d had his way with me. His friends, the two corpses outside Girnir, brought it to sixteen, and the man who’d attempted to harm Adaman, seventeen. Seventeen lives lost, all because of two selfish men and their desire to use me as they see fit.

And that’s not including the number of deaths the elf next to me has been responsible for during our journey together so far.

Hmm. I wonder how high that particular number will climb to as well, before all this is over. Perhaps it will equal the number of Nightshadow Elves that were slaughtered during the Fall of Amzarath. It would be only fair, after all.

The woman in question clears her throat, drawing my attention back to the conversation at hand. “Ah, yes. Well. We’ve been a mercenary for quite some time, and when I saw her portrait, and the reward for her capture, I knew your daughter would be safer in my care than–”