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‘Dratos,’ Anya said. ‘See to it that we start some whispers of our own. That the wraith slayer of Thezmarr is indeed on the hunt for the traitor.’
‘Consider it done,’ Dratos replied.
Adrienne cleared her throat and jutted her chin towards Terrence. ‘Who’s had word from the prince?’
‘That would be me.’ Dratos reached to ruffle Terrence’s feathers before handing over a scroll. ‘Everything is going to plan on his end – so far, at least.’
The youngster who was knitting what appeared to be a scarf looked up. ‘Will the weapon be ready —’
A shadow shot out from Dratos and clipped the boy around the back of the head.
‘Good gods, cousin, are you as thick as that fucking jumper?’ Dratos pinched the bridge of his nose.
Cousin, Thea noted, watching the exchange with piqued interest.
‘I was only asking,’ the boy said, rubbing the back of his head.
‘Well, don’t. We’ve got new blood here and we don’t know if she’s trustworthy yet.’
A flush crept up Thea’s neck. Strange, how the tides had turned and she was now the traitor in their midst.
The youngster frowned. ‘I thought she was Anya’s sister. She’s family, right?’
Something twinged in Thea’s chest at that. They had had only one real conversation, had exchanged a single smile… For all the blood they shared, Anya was a stranger to her. And Wren was farther away than ever.
Dratos rolled his eyes. ‘Must be nice in the rosy, simple world of Gus, huh? Why don’t you go knit your socks somewhere else?’
The boy called Gus calmly placed his knitting on the table and leant back in his chair, giving his cousin a challenging stare as shadows leaked from his torso, forming a threatening mass around him.
‘Make me,’ he said, nostrils flaring.
Dratos was on his feet in an instant. ‘You little shit —’
‘Enough,’ Anya shouted. ‘Fuck’s sake. If you Castemonts want to measure your dicks, go do it elsewhere.’
A minute passed as shadows flickered around the tent, before both men seemed to simmer down.
‘It’s a fucking scarf, you prick,’ Gus muttered, taking up his needles again.
Thea had to bite her knuckles to stop herself from laughing. For all the darkness and evil in the world, this familial spat between cousins wasn’t exactly what she’d imagined when it came to the shadow-touched kind.
Dratos threw himself back down in his chair and took up his pipe again with an irritated noise. ‘Where were we?’
‘Weapons and this prince of shadows you all talk of,’ Thea supplied.
‘Shadow Prince,’ Dratos corrected her. ‘And you’ll find out soon enough, Thezmarrian… We just need to be sure about you first.’
‘I vouch for her,’ Wilder said.
Anya watched the exchange from the head of the table, her brow creasing in apprehension.
‘Thing is, I was never sure about you either, Warsword,’ Dratos quipped. ‘Plus, you’re hardly an unbiased perspective, judging from the noises coming from your —’
‘Finish that sentence.’ Wilder leant forward menacingly, elbows resting on the table. ‘I dare you.’
Anya slammed her cup down on the table again. ‘All the men, out.Now.’
‘Anya,’ Dratos drawled. ‘We’re just —’
