Page 93 of Shadows and Roses

After a summary of his supposed father’s estate, Damon extended his arm. "There—how’s that?"

Around his wrist was a silk handkerchief. Twisted with the plain cream-colored fabric was a silver chain with a small, half-moon charm.

She examined the chain. It looked like a necklace. Glancing at his chest, she was relieved to see the claw was gone. "The silk is fine, but the silver will have to go. You're a baron’s forgotten son, remember. Silver—any precious metal or gem—is a claim to the throne."

He admired his own arm for a moment, then shrugged. "Ah, of course, wouldn’t want to get above myself. Just the silk as you say, my lady."

"Sorry, Damon."

"No, no, it was careless." He smiled and tucked away the necklace. "I'll pay better attention now, go on."

They continued talking until the group made camp for the night.

They’d traveled east for half the day to make it appear as though they’d come from the village closest to Baron Caemarn’s estate. The baron rarely visited court, and a few casual inquiries had made it clear that none of her usual courtiers knew much about him or cared. Still, too many discrepancies would be noticed by someone eventually.

Forests dotted the landscape with a single, small, poorly maintained road to this part of the nation that few journeyed in or out of. As the sunlight dimmed, they found a clearing in the forest and began setting up tents. Horses were tied to trees, a fire swiftly struck, and a few people began foraging the woods. By the time the stars appeared, a cautious camaraderie had emerged between the rebels and the Queen’s guards. She retired to her tent, trusting in her better-trained and loyal entourage.The only question on her mind as she drifted off was if Jerome would sleep.

—

Something stirred. It was still dark, with only a vague hint of moonlight and hazy smudges where the torches were set on the boundaries of the camp. The quiet was unsettling; shockingly loud insects had made for restless sleep the first few nights of the trip. A soft whimper nearby startled her into reaching for the small blade under her pillow.

Silence fell again. Too quiet.

Wrapping a fur around herself and with the blade in her hand, she slipped out of the tent, taking soft, slow steps.

A wolf pup lay on the ground a few feet away. The partial moonlight shone off its eyes as it stared at her and whimpered once more.

She didn’t know much of wolves except to keep her distance, but where there was a pup—

"Wolf!" The distant shout came from her right, an unfamiliar voice. One of the rebels.

The ringing of swords sliding from sheaths, growling snarls, and scrabbling feet suddenly erupted all around her. Her fur fell to the ground—modesty and warmth were the least of her concerns, especially as large canine jaws followed by a gleaming grey-white furred body padded out of the trees. The wolf spotted the pup and let out a long, low growl, lips drawing back from sharp teeth. Yipping, the pup limped toward the larger creature, only to stumble and fall; one of its legs appeared injured.

The distant commotion sounded closer but the guard that should be by her tent was nowhere in sight. Jerome must’ve decided to sleep, she thought withexasperated amusement.

The wolf leaned back.

"Watch out!"

Someone shoved her. The wolf leaped. The motion that was intended to save her only placed her closer to the animal’s attack, sharp teeth catching moonlight as they both launched into the air. Anais twisted, kicked off the ground, threw herself to the side, and raised her blade. Long, sharp teeth caught a few strands of her hair as her weapon sliced through the creature’s belly.

Anais landed awkwardly on her left arm and rolled to her feet, claws and knife extended. Turning precisely, she found Kevam engaging the wolf, his blade finishing what she’d started.

"My Queen! Are you hurt?" Jerome rushed to her side, his blade smeared red and a cut down his left leg oozing blood.

"No, Jerome. Tend to yourself." She brushed the forest floor off of her skin.

"I’m fine—"

"Captain Jerome." Her voice snapped with ice. It had been a while since she was in danger. Still, he should know better.

He froze for a moment, then bowed his head. "Yes, my Queen."

The fighting seemed to be over as a few voices called out to check on each other. Everyone seemed accounted for with no major injuries.

Kevam was eyeing the large wolf. "Looks like the mother. I’d like the pelts, if that’s alright with you, lady."

She nodded. Jerrl, who appeared unharmed, came over and hauled off the wolf.

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