Crowned Wolf of Shadows

Chapter 1

SAPHIRA

Iwas a wolf.

Cunning. Smart. Brave.

A little afraid as I stood among my enemy, shoulder to shoulder with them, pretending I belonged as I prayed to every ancestor, and even the goddess of this realm, that they wouldn’t realise they had brought a wolf among their flock.

If I could call myself a wolf.

I mentally shook off those words, refusing to listen to that kernel of my heart that whispered I was like these males who walled in the view to my left and right, standing so close to me that it was impossible to ignore them. I wasn’t like them. I was a wolf shifter.

Even if what the seelie steward had told me was true and my real father had been the fallen king of this fae court, I was still a wolf. Nothing would ever change that. I knew who I was. I knew my purpose. I knew my strength.

I could do this.

My gaze drifted to the regal blond male responsible for upending my world—the steward of this court.

He towered beside me on my right, and I squinted when the blazing sunlight glinted off his golden and white armour.

The breeze that carried the cloying scent of blossoms toyed with his long ponytail, catching the tips as he stood motionless, his shoulders squared and posture reeking of royalty.

He had the same perfect poise as Kaeleron, my beautiful Shadow King, looking every bit the male born to rule a court, and I suppose he did in a way.

He was steward of the Summer Court, must have ruled this place since the Summer King had died, and I had to wonder how he felt about handing the reins over to someone he claimed had muddied blood, but not muddied enough that there were those in this court who didn’t want to place me on a throne.

The calm mask he wore revealed nothing, not even as he drew down a breath that expanded his broad chest beneath his glittering armour and turned a charming smile on me.

“Is it not beautiful?” He tilted his chin towards the view, the parody of a smile holding, as if his sudden breath had everything to do with the beauty of the court rousing some sort of feeling in his chest and nothing to do with reining in whatever darkness lingered in his veins from his altercation with Kaeleron back in Canada.

I kept my eyes on him rather than taking in the view as he wanted, my wolf side pacing as instinct murmured and stirred within me, warning me of danger.

My fingers closed around the grip of my dagger.

His crystal blue eyes narrowed as they lowered to my hand.

“Very.” I plastered on a smile, one as bright as that blinding sun that made the rolling hills too green and the blossoming trees too pink, and one as fake as the one that graced his lips. I lifted my free hand to shade my eyes. “But is it always so… sunny?”

He chuckled, the sound easy and light, and shifted his focus back to the court he called home.

The Summer Court.

It was all crisp and faultless green fields, swathes of meadow flowers of every colour that swayed in the warm breeze, and bone white towers that speared the vivid turquoise sky.

It was surreal. Too beautiful. Too clean and perfect.

Like a gilded and glittering mask that concealed an ugly truth, designed to deflect and deceive, and disarm.

It all seemed so cold to me.

And I knew it was because I was scared.

Scared that Sylvan might have been speaking the truth back in Canada.

Scared I wouldn’t survive this.

Scared that Kaeleron would want nothing to do with me now that he believed me born of his enemy—of the person who had killed his parents in front of his eyes and stolen his brother from him.

My fingers flexed around the hilt of my dagger, the black leather warm beneath them, offering comfort as I clung to it just as I clung to that hope that Kaeleron had understood the truth behind the vicious words I had flung at him, playing a role I had needed to play to convince these seelie I was damaged goods, a broken and fragile female who needed their protection.

A weak little thing that was no threat to them.

I clung to something else too.

The hope that his feelings for me hadn’t changed. That nothing could shatter this fragile bond growing between us. That his words had been lies too, veiling the truth of his heart, concealing it from his enemies.

That he loved me.

It hadn’t felt as if his feelings for me had changed when we had played our little charade, fooling the seelie who now surrounded me, closing in on all sides like the glittering bars of a gold and white cage to protect me—their heir.

Sylvan’s blue gaze remained steady on me, drilling into the side of my face as I clutched my dagger, as I stared at that dreadful castle and struggled to breathe as everything rose like thunderous waves within me.

All those vile words we had hurled at each other, all that fear that sank deep into my bones, and that doubt that crushed my hope. Those waves broke over me, rocking me, causing fissures in my strength so that it bled from me.

I clung more fiercely to my dagger.

Fighting for breath.

Sylvan gestured to the soldiers and one by one they backed off, giving me space, leaving my view of that wretched bright and clean castle clear again for a heartbeat before he moved to block it, a wall of gleaming gold that I wanted to tear at with my claws as they came out.

He held his gauntleted hand out to me.

Cold snaked down my spine as I realised what he wanted.

I twirled the dagger in my hand on instinct, so the bright silver blade rested along my forearm and my thumb hooked over the wolf’s head pommel, and brought it up before me, a defensive manoeuvre that had Sylvan’s right brow rising as he catalogued what I had done and how swiftly I had moved, and how skilfully I handled the weapon.

His smile was all charm. “You do not need it here. You are safe now.”

I snorted. “I think I’ll keep hold of it. Trust is earned and you’ve given me no evidence to back up what you said back there in Canada.”

For a heartbeat, a blink of an eye, his lips flattened in displeasure and his air darkened, the oppressive feel of his power rising making it harder to breathe, and then he seemed to realise what he had done and smiled more broadly than ever.

Resembling the snake he was.

“I have no reason to lie about your heritage.”

Words I wanted to laugh at and throw in his face, but I couldn’t find the strength to do it.

I couldn’t just laugh off what he had said, treating it as implausible just because I didn’t want to believe it.

Just because the thought of it cut me like the dagger I gripped as if it were a lifeline, a tie to the unseelie king I had left back there, and was desperate to see again.

I drew down a fortifying breath, subtle enough that the seelie studying me wouldn’t notice it.

I could do this. The truth was here somewhere in the Summer Court, and I would find it.

I would find out whether he had spoken true back in that wretched glade.

Whether my real father had been the fallen Summer King.

Whether I was part seelie.

Sworn enemy of the male I loved.

He lowered his gentle blue eyes to the dagger held close to my chest.

Not the dagger, I realised, but my grip on it, and his expression grew thoughtful and measured.

My first mistake. I had revealed I knew how to handle a weapon, and now the steward was studying me a little too closely.

That assessing look in his eyes made my wolf side pace and snarl and push to the fore, wanting to show him just how sharp my fangs were, but I held it back, tamping down my instincts.

It was too late to make a show of being surprised by what I had done.

He knew. He knew I wasn’t as innocent and weak as I appeared.

But I still put a little tremble in my hand as I faced him, feigned nerves and fear that came easily as I thought about Kaeleron and what might have happened to his sister and Riordan.

Had this bastard before me really tortured them for information?

What would he do to me if he discovered I was here for the Shadow Court, for its king, and not so I could make this place my home and my court?

I glanced between him and the dagger, pretending to be shocked by what I had done, and lowered the blade a few inches, blinking at it. Hoping maybe I could fool him after all.

“How is it you came to be in possession of fae steel?” Sylvan purred, his voice a low caress that had my hackles rising as he studied the weapon.

“I stole it when I escaped the Shadow Court.” I put fire into those words, a rage I didn’t really feel, together with pain that easily touched my eyes as I thought of everything that had happened over the last few months, and all I had lost already.

I couldn’t lose Kaeleron too. I wouldn’t. I would fight for him. I would fight this world to have him.

He was mine.

My wolf howled that, instincts that ran soul-deep and were startling in their strength as they rocked me and something within me stirred in response. Something fierce. Something powerful.

Something gloriously dark.

That had me gnashing fangs as I bit out, “I killed fae with it. I learned from my time there that kindness is a weakness, I learned how these fae courts work, and I vowed that I would never allow myself to be subjected to such horrors again.”

Words that were true, but not about the things he would believe them to be about.

Sylvan eyed the dagger again, and then slowly inclined his head.

“Very well. You may keep your blade. I will see to it that you are given an adequate sheath for it.” His words dripped with kindness, with the care a steward might feel towards an heir, but I had learned to look between the cracks.

I studied him as closely as he studied me as we smiled at each other, both wearing a mask to conceal the truth of us.

Mine almost slipped when he casually added, “I will hear more about your time in the Shadow Court and how you came to escape it later, once you are settled.”