Page 34 of The Trials of Ophelia

But Barrett was already up, taking sure but slow steps toward the trees. Dax pushed to his feet, watching closely.

“Barrett,” I growled.

“Relax,” the former prince said. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

He disappeared into shadow for a moment, and then a light laugh drifted from the trees. Dax was striding after him before I could respond. With a groan and a quick look around to confirm no one was paying us any attention, I tucked Lucidius’s journal into my pocket and ran after them.

“What in the Spirits are you think?—”

There, spread on the floor with his stomach to the sky was a wolf. He couldn’t be older than a pup, large enough to be over half a year, but still all floppy legs and ears. Barrett was crouched beside him scratching his belly affectionately.

“Why are you touching it?” I reached for Barrett’s shoulder but Dax grabbed my wrist.

“He’s fine.” Dax’s warning glare was much harsher than his tone. “He likes animals.”

“And this one seems harmless,” Barrett added.

Dax observed them. “He probably wandered over from Mindshaper Territory for warmth.”

“And now he’ll have plenty traveling with us.” Barrett scooped the wolf into his arms.

“What do you mean traveling with us?” I looked between the Engrossians. “He can’t stay with us.”

“He can, and he will,” Barrett said, a hopeful gleam in his eye as he stared down at the wolf.

“Barrett,” I sighed. “We’re going to war. You cannot have a pet.”

“He’ll be trained and helpful. We can’t leave him alone out here.” Both the prince and the damn wolf turned sad looks on me, all dark eyes and floppy hair on the both of them. And I swore to Damien, that wolf seemed to evaluate me. His large blue eyes were knowing, more understanding than any animal should be. It sent a wave of unease through my stomach.

With a gleeful little yelp I wouldn’t admit was cute, the wolf flipped out of Barrett’s arms and bounded to me. He placed his too-large paws on my chest and stretched up. Did his eyes look human? They dug into me, begging me to let him stay with us.

I staggered back, and Lucidius’s journal went tumbling to the ground. The wolf’s jaw clamped around it, and with a sly wiggle of his tail, he took off into the forest.

“Rebel, no!” Barrett shouted as we all ran off after the animal. Spirits, those gangly legs were quick.

“Rebel?” I panted.

“It was either that or Exile, and the latter simply isn’t cute at all,” Barrett said, shaking his head as if that was obvious.

As the three of us chased down the wolf, I considered Barrett’s names. Rebel or Exile—two that could define him, but one much more favorable than the other. Which way did he view himself?

Something within me softened at this prince who missed his people, his title. Who now clung to one random pup in the woods, desperate to care for it and give it a home.

My resolve softened. “Rebel can stay with us.”

Chapter Eleven

Ophelia

The Cliffs of Brontain were wrapped in harsh winds that had me wishing I hadn’t tucked my cloak away in my pack when the sun beat overhead this afternoon. Gray waves slapped against dark rock. The flat ground was covered in a thin layer of bright-green grass, blades rifling in the wind, but beyond the plateau, the drop off was sharp.

White caps unfurled more peacefully the further out I looked, but right here, against the cliffs, the water was choppy and rough, biting into the sides of the land like a predator ready to attack.

A large wave slammed into the surface. Water shot up around us, small droplets briny as they flecked my hair and skin. Next to me, Ezalia breathed it in, serenity smoothing out the lines around her eyes and mouth.

“This is one of my favorite views,” the Seawatcher Chancellor said, eyes closed. There was a hint of protectiveness in her voice, like she wanted to guard this place.

The breeze lifted her hair, brown strands swirling around her pointed chin and shoulders. Though my arms peppered with goosebumps, hers remained smooth, as if the wind sank right into the bare olive skin on display around her tan leathers.

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