Page 49 of A Lady’s Guide to Werewolves

“No. I was hunting. We’ve been trying to find the Cauldron for a long time now. Too long.”

“Me too,” she grumbled. “I want to burn it to ashes. The things they do…”

“And the Red Cloak comes to the rescue.”

“I suppose.”

“And who rescues you?”

“I don’t need rescuing.” She thought of the ogre and the curse. “Usually,” she amended.

He dragged a hand over his face. “You have a Minotaur who bakes your bread. Did it no’ occur to you to take him with you on these terrifyingly dangerous jaunts of yours?” His brogue had thickened considerably. She liked it.

Which was beside the point. Entirely.

She shook her head firmly. “Absolutely not.”

“And why not?”

“Because the Collector had him once and would dearly love to capture him again, I daresay. Aesop might be as strong as three oxen, but he’s a gentle soul. I’m not sure he would survive it again.” She swallowed. “You didn’t see how he was when I found him.” And he rarely left Nettlestone now. She did not blame him.

“You are also much more fragile than you think,” Aidan grumbled.

She glowered. “Hardly.”

He sighed. “Sorcha, you have the heart of ten warriors, but that ogre would have used your bones for his stew.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I am aware.”

“Are you?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “I know the risks, Coventry.”

“Coventry, is it? I have annoyed you.”

“Yes. You have. I’m not going to stop.”

“I never suggested you should.”

She halted. “Oh.”

He was amused, even if his jaw was hard. “I am not an idiot, Lady Sorcha.”

“I am happy to hear it.” The few people who knew about the Red Cloak lost no time in begging her to stop.

“I only think you should not have to do it alone.”

She shrugged one shoulder. She felt as though she had swallowed a peach pit without realizing it and now it had simply dissolved away. “I am also not an idiot, Lord Coventry. Nothing about the Cauldron is safe. But we both want to take it down, so we may as well work together. Especially as apparently the Collector does not care for either of us. And it’s too late now, isn’t it? You heard what Freya said about pacts with the wolves.”

“Fair enough.”

“And by the way, if you cannot track the Cauldron as wolves, how is it that you found me that night?”

“I can always find you.” His voice was deep, quiet. She had no idea if his eyes were golden behind his spectacles, as he was not looking at her.

Something fluttered in her chest at that, like her crow’s shining wings. Only Elderberry was soaring ahead, bright as sunlight on water. Aidan had entirely too much effect on her insides.

“You hadn’t even Marked me yet,” Sorcha pointed out as the mist curled around her ankles.