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Briar smiled. “You’ll be a princess and a knight, Calla. You’ll be formidable. While I’m holding high teas and birthing pups, you’ll be galloping off into battle.”
Birthing pups. I shoved the bowl of almonds away, suddenly sick to my stomach. The roles of man and woman were so rigid, so constraining, completely controlling who we could be and what we would do with our lives. Everyone around me seemed so willing to play these parts, even Briar. Some even seemed like theywantedthem. And while any mandatory role wouldn’t be one I’d choose for myself, the desires of an individual meant nothing in a pack. There was no point even considering them.
I glanced at my bedroom door, wondering when the siring of pups would commence. Gods, would Grae come here? Would I hear them together? My soul left my body imagining those sounds. My cheeks heated, my skin prickling as I swallowed back the panic. I scanned the room for wine, intending to getrip-roaring drunk at the wedding feast. There were only so many things my soul could take, and this moment had been one I’d been trying to reconcile for the last seven years.
I toyed with the amber stone hanging around my neck. “Are we sure we want to do this?” I asked Briar for the hundredth time, placing the cool back of my hand to my flushed cheek.
“We don’t have a choice. You think we can defeat a powerful sorceress all on our own, Calla? And even so, what then?” This had been an ongoing battle our whole lives. Briar’s countenance soured. “We have no brothers and even if we did, we’dstillneed these alliances. Our parents knew the importance of allies or else they wouldn’t have arranged this union. It was our mother’s dying wish for Vellia to see me to this day.”
“I just wanted to give you one more chance to back out, Briar,” I whispered. “If you didn’t want this, I would break you out of this castle myself.”
Briar bobbed her head. “I know you would.” She squeezed my hand. “But I have accepted my fate. Grae and I may never love each other, but we have agreed to be friends and work together to save Olmdere. It is the right thing to do. It’s what our parents would’ve wanted. For the good of the pack.”
“For the good of the pack,” I muttered.
“You’d save us all if you could, Cal.” Briar wiped at a tear under her eyes with a laugh. “You’re proud, stubborn, and single-minded.”
“If I were a man, you’d be praising those qualities.”
Briar rolled her eyes. “Let me do this. Let me honor our parents by honoring our traditions.”
My eyes softened. For possibly the hundredth time in the last few days, I had to remind myself that being part of a pack meant sacrifice.
“Fine,” I relented, though my stomach still churned. “But I’m telling you now: I don’t care for King Nero. He seems like a power-hungry oaf.”
Briar chortled. “We’ll steer clear of him as much as possible.”She turned toward the stained-glass windows that peered out over the lush summer forests. “The wedding and feast will be boring, but then we can run through the trees with our new family. The best way to celebrate our birthday.”
I smiled, staring out toward the sun setting through the endless sea of trees. The tightness in my chest eased at the thought of running, not having to circle the same patch over and over, but actually being able to roam.
The sunset cast long beams of colorful light across the room as a light rap sounded on the door.
“Let’s get on with it, then.” Briar sighed, giving me one last wink.
I clambered off the bed, expecting to find the seamstresses, but instead finding two guards.
The older one with a zigzagging scar down his cheek spoke. “The King has requested to speak with the Princess’s guard.”
“What?” Briar called from behind me.
We swapped bemused looks. “Will you be okay in here?”
I didn’t like the idea of leaving her. Everything felt on tenterhooks in the lead-up to the ceremony.
“Go, go.” She nodded. “I think I can handle being pricked by a few more needles while you’re gone.”
“So much for steering clear of the King,” I muttered. I balled my hands into fists at my side, steeling myself for another encounter with the Silver Wolf King.
Eight
My boots scuffed across the stone as I followed the two guards through the labyrinth of hallways. We arrived at a carved wood door, another two guards stationed beside it. I rested my hand on the hilt of my dagger as I entered.
The smell of old books hit me as I stepped onto the ornate rug. King Nero leaned back in his chair behind a painted maplewood desk. Over his right shoulder stood Grae. Arms folded across his chest, he stared daggers into the back of his father’s head as if he didn’t even notice me. I narrowed my eyes at him, observing that his right eye was swollen, a purpling bruise along his cheekbone. What had happened? My pulse thrummed in my ears as I bowed.
“I’m sorry it came as a surprise that I did not reveal who you were.” The King’s voice was a scratchy wooden note as it bounced around the study.
I glanced at Grae but couldn’t read his hard expression as he stared everywhere but at me. Fire churned in my chest at the bruises on his face. Who had he been brawling with?
“I feel it is best you remain a secret, Calla,” King Nero continued.
