Chapter 18 #2

“I assume you’re not the dancing type,” she says.

“Nor you?”

“Most certainly not.” She side-eyes me. “Nice dress,” she says in a tone that tells me she does not think my dress is, in fact, nice.

I scowl. “It’s a party. I didn’t want to wear my sweaty leather pants.”

She looks down at her own clothes and shrugs. “Works fine for me.”

We watch as nearby dancers stomp and twirl and grab hands.

Almost all of them are children, but there are a few older men and women.

No doubt they’re remembering the many partners they’ve lost to the unending war.

The husbands, wives, parents, and friends who went to the borderlands and never returned.

A memory strikes me like a stab to the heart. The last time I danced was with Hunter, at our engagement ball. It feels like a lifetime ago. I bite the inside of my cheek and swallow away the wave of guilt that washes over me. There will be no more dancing for me. Not ever.

I need to let him go. Even as the thought crosses my mind, pain shoots through my heart. It’s time to move on. Time to let the past die. It can never come back.

I toss a sideways glance at Nalina. “So, what’s this visit really about?”

“I just wanted to remind you.”

“Of?”

“Your promise.”

I scoff. “I don’t recall promising anything.”

She purses her lips. “Perhaps you should have.” She leans toward me and whispers. “Do not get distracted. You have a job to do.”

I pull back just enough to look her in the eyes. “You think I’ve forgotten?”

“You don’t seem to be taking your situation as seriously as you should.”

“And what situation are you referring to?” I ask.

“The one where I’m trapped in Annwyn until spring?

Or the one where my father tried to kill me, making my false infant brother heir to Llwyn instead?

Or maybe you’re speaking of the situation where my dear grandmother turned out to be the Dead Queen, my sworn enemy?

” A dark laugh escapes me. “There are just so many situations. I can’t follow which one you mean. ”

Her brown eyes narrow. “Careful, Fox Heir, or you might become the victim of prophecy.”

I drop all false lightness. “What prophecy?”

The glow from the bonfire casts flickering shadows over her face. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

I refuse to take the bait.

She continues. “You’re so busy out here trying to become a northerner, I’d assumed he’d tell you all about our lore.”

I’m truly starting to dislike Nalina. “Either you’re going to tell me or not. I’d rather skip the games.”

Waves crash on the rocky shoreline behind us as she considers whether to tell me. I think she’s trying to torture me with suspense until she finally gives in.

“Every northern child grows up whispering the prophecy. About the Wolf who will save the kingdom by bringing back the Heir to the North. The Wolf who’s destined to kill the Great Fox.”

A chill runs down my spine. When we were in Llwyn, Tristan told my father he was there to find the Heir to the North.

I shake my head. “I don’t believe in prophecies.”

She sucks her teeth. “You’re in the north now, Fox Heir. Maybe it’s time you start.”

A figure steps around the bonfire, and my heart stumbles in my chest.

“Red.” Tristan steps toward us, his eyes narrowed. “Nalina.” His voice is quiet and edged, like a subtle warning.

The confidence in Nalina’s eyes flickers. “We were just discussing fairy tales and folklore.”

“I’m sure.”

When she looks back toward me, her eyes are dark. “A fox can’t be tamed. It will always be wild at heart. Vicious, sneaky.” Her eyes flicker to Tristan. “Remember that, Wolf.” She walks away, the dancers parting in her wake.

Suddenly, I don’t want to be here anymore. What once felt like a welcome break from the monotony of life at Gwyllion, now feels like a mistake. My unease must show on my face.

Tristan leans in toward my ear. “I want to show you something.” His voice is a low whisper. His warm breath on my neck sends a shiver down my spine, but I can’t ignore the spark of distrust that flares inside of me.

I pull back to study his face. “What is it?”

He nods his head toward the darkened shoreline, beyond the glow of the bonfires. “You’ll have to come with me to find out.”

I size him up, then decide I would rather be anywhere but here, at the edge of a party that no one wants me at. I nod.

Without another word, his hand finds mine.

The memory of his skin makes my heart flutter in my chest. But if it affects him, he doesn’t show it.

Tristan pulls me gently away from the crowd.

His grip is steady, but there’s a possessive edge to it, as though letting go isn’t an option.

We leave the fire’s warmth, the music fading behind us as the cold night closes in.

Overhead, the northern lights twist and pulse in their endless dance.

We walk along the shore until the loudest sounds are the crashing waves and our boots stepping along the sand.

It’s a relief to be away from the fray, but a small shadow nips at the back of my mind.

I’m alone with the Wolf. And now I know for certain that he hasn’t been entirely truthful with me. I’ll need to tread carefully.

“I suppose I should thank you,” I say, breaking the silence.

He gives me a curious look. “For?”

“Rescuing me.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, but there’s no warmth in it. “You’re not the sort who needs rescue. I suspect you can handle your own.” His words curl in my chest, unsettling and reassuring all at once.

“Then where are you taking me?”

His face changes to an expression I can’t quite read. “To a place I’ve been meaning to show you.”

I tilt my head, challenging him. “I see you at dawn every morning, yet you couldn’t find the time to take me here in daylight?”

He shrugs, then winces at the pain in his ribs. “This seemed like a good opportunity.”

“You don’t like parties either, I gather.”

The faintest hint of a smile flickers at the edge of his lips, but it’s gone in an instant.

An icy wind sweeps in from the sea, and without thinking, I step a little closer to his side.

He doesn’t pull away. Music and laughter drift on the wind, but it’s distant now, like a dream we’ve left behind.

The cold gnaws at my fingertips, but I barely notice, not when Tristan’s hand is still wrapped around mine.

Old gods help me, because beneath the light of the moon and the shimmer of the northern sky, the world feels a little less cold. Even if deception and secrets still nip at the back of my mind, refusing to be forgotten.

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