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Trying to keep my movements as small as possible, I shimmied my arms into the sleeves of my traveling cloak and pulled the hood over my hair. I swung my knees to the side and gingerly lifted the satchel to my shoulder, careful not to bump the table as I stood and walked away from the table, unseen by my brother and everyone.
It was the one aspect of my mother’s crimson-red cloak that hadn’t made it into the secondhand story of how my parents met.
That, and the woodsman.
History was always eager to find a man to saddle with the credit. The idea that a fabled werewolf hunter like Petit Rouge would decide to shag the big bad wolf instead of bringing back his head on a pike just wasn’t as sexy to the patriarchy.
Insufferable fuckwits.
The inn’s heavy wood door squealed as I opened it, but only I heard.
The exterior was cool and damp beneath my palms as I shoved it closed without anyone being the wiser. I pulled in a deep breath, scented of rain and tender green spring.
I was invisible but all-seeing. I was silent but all hearing.
I was stealth itself. I was the night.
I was…very surprised by the razor-sharp tip of a silver arrow nocked directly at my neck.
Chapter Two
“You know the cloak doesn’t make you invisible, right?”
Shadow swallowed the source of a voice both smoky and smooth. Neither masculine nor feminine but somehow embodying the best parts of both. Melodic. Lyrical. Seductive.
Mediterranean?
“Aye.” My audible swallow drove the steely point further into my windpipe. “Of course, I know that. What kind of fool wouldn’t?”
“The kind at the end of my arrow.”
Why this sent a shiver down my spine, I had no idea.
“About that,” I said. “If it’s money you want—”
“It’s not.”
“Then what?”
“You,” the voice said in a honeyed rasp.
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“No, but you really don’t,” I insisted.
“No, but I really do.”
Exhaustion invaded my bones, turning them to lead. “This may be a good time to let you know that I am not, in fact, a human female.”
“What kind of fool would I be if didn’t know that?”
“The kind pointing an arrow at a creature who could cheerfully relieve you of your throat with a single jerk of its jaws,” I said.
“I guess it’s a good thing neither of us are fools, then.”
Metallic acid ate at the base of my throat and glued my tongue to my teeth. “While we’re on the topic of not being foolish, you should know I have no interest in being a receptacle for your cock.”
