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“I’m only going to have a look to see what I can find out. I can blend in easier alone.” At their pout, I add, “I promise to be safe.”
With that, I hurry out before they can find another reason to protest. The halls are eerily quiet now. I walk quickly, keeping my head down, and try to appear as nothing more than another servant sent on an errand.
I slow as I reach the landing of the main corridor. Three guards are ordering a boisterous group of nobles and gentry away, ignoring those who are clearly lower status. The courtiers are affronted. One even tries to argue but is quickly put in his place.
Cherno was right after all… It appears the castle is being locked down.
Is Elizabeth trying to save face by attempting to keep it under wraps, or is she trying to protect those who matter most, using those she deems beneath her as fodder for whatever fallout happens? Or both?
A woman dressed in umber breeches and a dark red jacket that appears almost black stands against the wall, halfway down the corridor to the left. She watches me with the demeanor of any other guard. Her livery is wrong. It lacks the gold embellishments along the collar and sleeves, replaced by dull yellow stitching.
I dip my chin and walk toward her before I think better of it. My footsteps falter, but I keep going. It would be more suspicious to turn back now. This might get me killed if I’m not careful. The best I can hope for is to make her think I am nothing more than another skittish human servant who believes she is just another guard.
I make the mistake of meeting her eye when I pass. Her face is unexpectedly familiar. My pace slows a little too much. She cocks her head to the side. My hesitation is enough for her to recognize me. The woman stalks forward, gripping my upper arms.
Wolves—the wolves are here.
She was one of the two betas who accompanied Oliver when he came to Windbury to discuss the demon infestation of the Shade forest.
“Miss Valmont?” she says my name as if there’s a chance she is mistaken.
“It’s you…” I say, surprise freezing my tongue.
Her eyes narrow on me, then dart behind me—probably to see if I’m being followed. “You shouldn’t be out here right now.”
What are they doing here? Is Oliver here, too?I glance up and down the hall for any trace of him—as if I could have walked right past him without noticing.
My heart thuds against my ribs. In the city, I told Oliver that Elizabeth cursed Alaric.
Oliver said he would search for a way to help me break the curse, but if that was the case, he would have sent word, not staged a covert siege. He wouldn’t have come to kill Alaric…would he?
I bite down hard on the tip of my tongue, angry with myself for not thinking through things more thoroughly before trusting him.
Hope is a dangerous thing.
A sliver too much, and you throw caution to the wind and trust those you shouldn’t.
“You should go back to your room until tonight.” She begins guiding me back toward the stairs.
I plant my feet and refuse to be moved. Not if Alaric is in danger. “Where is Oliver?” I demand in a harsh whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention.
The beta’s gaze darts toward the mezzanine on the third level before returning to me. “He doesn’t have time for you.”
We stare each other down, neither wanting to yield. The flickering light of a nearby sconce sets off the amber flecks in her dark brown eyes. Her long, curly, black hair has been pulled back in a tight braid to match the other female guards.
She releases her grip on me when the quickened thud of several guards passes over our heads. No doubt reinforcements to protect Elizabeth, and likely Alaric as well. I hate feeling any gratitude toward her for the possibility of keeping him safe.
A door opens further down the hall, causing us to mutually break our silent battle of wills. At first, no one appears, then a man’s head peeks out. When his gaze lands on us, he emerges. The incorrect livery is a tale-tell sign he is with her.
“Your uniforms are wrong,” I whisper to her. “They give you away.”
The beta frowns at me, unable to respond before her companion reaches us. I’m not entirely surprised that the other beta is also part of this operation.
“Time to—” he starts but cuts himself off when he notices me. He blinks and then gives me a smile reminiscent of Oliver’s flirtatious one. I wonder if they are related and how I missed the similarities before. “Miss Valmont, how fortuitous it is that we should cross paths,” he says. “Sadly, I’m afraid we must be on our way. However, you are invited to join us if you’d like.”
“I can’t,” I say, oversimplifying the situation. The truth is that I refuse to leave Alaric.
The woman pinches his chin between her thumb and forefinger, demanding his undivided attention. “Hunt, did we get what we came for?” she asks pointedly. I can hardly blame her for her ambiguity.
