Page 59 of Throne of the Wolf Queen

‘Were you hurt?’ She turned her head slightly, and I was desperate to tuck the loose strands of dark hair behind her perfect ears.

‘No.’ I chanced another step. ‘No. We’re all fine, thank Evella.’

‘Shame,’ she said, turning back to the window, her knuckles gripping the frame so tight I wondered how it didn’t fissure. ‘Evella truly has it in for me.’

I bit my lip, fighting the chuckle rising through me. Gods, she was a force even Vyrus would fear.

‘Well, she shackled you to me, so…’

‘That was your doing, Elmswood. I had no say in the matter. Remember?’

I closed my eyes, wincing. She may not be able to wield a sword, but my wife didn’t need a weapon in order to strike mortal wounds. I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure what to say. My words usually flowed like honey from a comb, but right now, nothing I could do or say would make up for all I’d cost her.

Her wolf strode forward, his amber gaze set on me. He sat down, raising his head and making sure I got a good eyeful of his sharp teeth. For once, I was grateful she had him. He’d tear me limb from limb rather than allow me to take her back to the empress.

‘Why?’ Sorrow spun around, her jaw clenching as she spat out the question I’d no idea how to answer. ‘Why did you do it, Matthias?’ She strode forward, her shaking fists clenched at her sides, and I braced myself for the incoming punch. The punch I deserved. My stomach rumbled as though it anticipated her strike.

She stopped before me, her chest heaving as I stared at her. Gods, with that beauty, how could I look anywhere else? Her fierce eyes shone with misery – misery I’d caused. Sweat dripped down my spine. I searched the room for the fire that must be roaring, but found the hearth bare. She raised her fists, and I winced as pain sliced into my side. Cracking my eyes open, I half-expected to see her pummelling me, but Sorrow’s fists stayed trembling by her side. So why did it hurt, like a diafol had slammed into me? Her lips moved, shaped words, the pounding in my ears drowned out. What did she say? Why? Did she ask me why? I gripped my head as she swayed and ran my tongue over my dry lips. Why wouldn’t she stay still? My floundering hands reached out for the only creature able to tether me, my fingers closing on nothing.

The room tilted. Gasping for air, my damned head thundered and, grimacing against the stab in my guts, I slammed against the wooden floorboards.

Convulsing, my back arched, a raw scream burst through my cracked lips as the untamed darkness swelled in my guts. It built, writhed, before bursting through me. I rolled onto my front, my hot face slamming against the ice of the floor and for a split second, I lay there, relishing the cool against the sting of my cheek.

‘No,’ I groaned as thick, syrupy bile rose through me. Hands brushed the hair from my eyes and, squinting through the tears, my heart spiked to find Sorrow on her knees. Her expression lost as I twisted in agony. The pain exploded, and I arched, my throat broken by a scream as the thick bile spilled from my lips. Sorrow gasped as Sacha cursed and I didn’t need to look to know what poison my body was so keen to expel. My body racked as I became nothing but the pollution. Sorrow, my Sorrow, called my name as though she could command me to halt this slow death.

As suddenly as it arrived, the sickness stopped. Spitting out a black glob, cool hands held my clammy face. I dragged in air too quickly and coughed, bucking. Someone pushed me away from the mess I’d just purged. Sacha, I realised as my eyes cracked open and I wiped my face.

He cursed as Sorrow stroked my throbbing forehead. Turning, a new, weaker wave of sickness rolled over me as I saw what I’d produced. A puddle of writhing pitch black, laced with long streaks of bronze, steamed, and I closed my eyes, my breaths slowing.

‘Matthias?’ I glanced up at Sorrow, swiping the tears from my eyes. There was no pity in her tone. ‘It’s poisoning you, isn’t it?’

Nodding, I turned, clutching my stomach. If Mother got me the Evellum quickly, surely that would buy me a reprieve?

‘I…’ I spat out more filth. ‘I tried to scrape it off, but all I did was quicken the poison’s spread.’ Fear flashed through her eyes and I reached out, grasped her hand. ‘At least Evella blessed me with a final chance to see the only one I’ve ever loved.’

She rolled her eyes, and I barked out a laugh, wincing as it stretched the already tight ache in my chest.

‘So damned dramatic, Elmswood.’ Despite the pain cleaving me apart, my lips curled weakly, recalling how she’d said the same words in the bower. Running a hand down her face, she expelled a long breath, when her eyes flew open. ‘Hawk,’ she cried, my heart dipping. Why did she keep crying out for another man? The wolf slid effortlessly under her hand. ‘I need Hawk.’

Pain radiated through my clenched jaw. I pictured the guard, his sneer. Who was this man who’d wormed his way into my wife’s affections quicker than an arrow? Trust was something you had to earn with Sorrow. And I, I ran a trembling hand down my face, had shattered her fledgling trust in me. Even I couldn’t be certain Sorrow was safe in my arms.

I rolled onto my side, grimacing at my still-aching ribs and glared at the door where Sorrow had gone, determined to work out how this man had come from nowhere and captivated my wife.

CHAPTER 23

SORROW

I don’t know how to put it in words, but something about her aims goes beyond the terrifying and enters the nefarious. She and that abbot of hers, they’re not just indiscriminately destroying the past. She’s searching for something, ensuring there’s no evidence. Each book she burns removes a footprint and I wonder why she cares so much to cover her tracks. I have dire concerns for our existence.

​— ​LETTER FROM KING MUSA TO QUEEN AMALA

Hawk – Vyrus – fucking God. Where the hell was the damned creature? My shallow breaths threatened to overwhelm me as I tore through corridor after corridor, clutching the wolf, searching for the one with the power to save Matthias.

A healer may be able to ease some of his symptoms, but Vyrus was the only one with the ability to drain the defilement from his flesh and free him completely.

The God had left that debating room only moments before myself. I’d smelt the stale alcohol as I stumbled away. Away from the husband I’d missed with a pain more dire than any mortal wound. I’d despised Matthias in that moment. The man raging before me, attacking a god, was not my Matthias. But the monster wearing my husband’s skin was a beast of his own creation. King Matthias had faced a choice. Ink a poisonous tattoo onto his back in order to save his throne or fulfil his vow to me.

But the man slumped in the arms of the rebels he despised? The green eyes brimming over with angst and shame? My heart beat a dull thud. That was my Matthias. But even as I swore into every empty room I found as I searched for his salvation, I wondered if that truly was my husband, or a macabre puppet sent by his empress to gather the Deviant she’d set her husk of a heart on owning?