Blood of the Wolf, Chapter 8

Nic tried to quiet her breathing while she and Falken hid in her arcanir-weave cloak, her back to his chest, his arms around her, her legs tucked between his thighs. Nice and cozy, one might say, except for the entire castle of guards out for their blood.

Many sets of steps stormed beyond the guest room’s closed door. Her cloak would shield them from earthsight, but if anyone opened the door, Shade would be their only hope. She kept two throwing knives ready, just in case.

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Blood of the Wolf, Chapter 7

As the glowing anima figures departed, Nic beckoned for Falken to approach the wall in the dying daylight, just beneath a crumbling statue of a gargoyle. This section bordered a derelict district, but they only had a small window to make it to the castle, and they still had the wards to contend with.

Moss and dirt flattened on the cobbles, shaped like bootprints heading toward her—and the hedge she crouched in. When she opened her eye beneath the eyepatch, his tall frame shone...

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Blood of the Wolf, Chapter 6

Throwing her hood back on, Nic spun away from Falken in the crowd. “Meet me at the Frozen Cello,” she hissed over her shoulder. His eyes flashed for a moment, then he darted away through the stalls as she did the same.

Four of the Divine Guard took off after him, garbed in their distinctive blue military overcoats. They wouldn’t dare use battle magic among the Contarini, who wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate anyone, Divinity included, most painfully if threatened. But the Divine...

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Blood of the Wolf, Chapter 5

Buried deep in her hood, Nic sat across from Falken by the window of The Frozen Cello. He remained hooded as well, even as he ate the goat-meat stew and drank the mulled wine, his harsh features and wisps of his snow-white hair occasionally visible.

“Have a fondness for certain human things?”

He shrugged. “My people can be overprotective. Stew and wine might not be the mortal threats they were made out to be,” he said with a half-laugh and a grin.

Around the dim tavern,...

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Blood of the Wolf, Chapter 4

Turned away from Falken in the dark, Nic dressed in the least wet of her clothes, dragging on damp trousers that resisted her legs. But at least now that the Divinity scouts had cleared the Bagni Bianchi, she and Falken would be free to camp safely near the hot springs’ warmth.

There was no telling whether his word was genuine, of course, but that pure, raw hatred had been doubtless. If he hated the Divinity that much, then he wouldn’t squander the chance to work with her and deal...

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