Page 25 of The Wolf King

Even though our people are at war, I do not want her to think me a monster too.

“What is your name?” I ask.

“That’s none of your concern.”

Something hardens inside me. I was trying to be nice.

Before I can respond, Ryan is back, passing me a stale loaf of bread and a leather flask filled with water. All I can think about is easing the gnawing ache of hunger that’s been building in my stomach all day.

“Thank you,” I say, gulping down the ice-cold water.

I stare at the bread for a moment before deciding there is no ladylike way to eat it. I tear into it, washing it down with another swig from the flask.

When I’m done, the girl is still eyeing me warily. Ryan, however, seems relaxed beside her.

“How is your arm?” I ask him.

Slowly and stiffly, he stretches it out—clenching his fist a couple of times. “It’ll be alright. I’ll be fighting again in no time.” Even in the growing darkness, I see the flush in his cheeks. “I... er... Thank you for what you did for me.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m sorry you were in that position.”

When his female friend whispers something in his ear and tugs on his good arm, he nods, then glances at me. “We’ll be over here if you need anything.”

They go and sit a few feet away.

“She’s alright, Becky,” I hear him murmur to her. “She’s not like the others.”

The men sit around the fire, drinking an amber liquid that I think is alcohol. They’re far enough away that I can’t hear their conversation. Though I can see the looks they throw at me every now and again, some hostile, others curious, others predatory.

By the water, the conversation between the alpha and Fergus seems heated. Fergus gestures wildly, and the alpha’s face is like stone. When the red-haired man points at me, I avert my gaze.

I am clearly unwelcome here.

I do not know how long I sit here, the conversation and laughter becoming more raucous around the fire. The alpha has stepped into the trees with Fergus, and Ryan and Becky are now deep in conversation.

Every part of me aches, yet I am alert as a rabbit surrounded by Wolves.

I feel horribly alone.

When I accidentally catch Magnus’s eyes, a slow grin spreads across his face and he says something to the ratlike man who sits beside him. I quickly look away, pulling my knees closer to my chest.

They both get up and saunter over, and my pulse begins to race. I can smell the alcohol on the air and see the intent in their eyes—even in the near darkness.

Ryan jumps to his feet. “Magnus—”

“Sit down, lad,” says the ratlike one with a grin, brushing him aside. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” says Magnus as he prowls forward. “It’s cold out here. Perhaps you can keep us warm.”

My insides twist. “You’re disgusting,” I say, pushing my back closer to the tree, grasping along the ground for something, anything, I can use as a weapon.

“Now, now, that’s not very nice,” slurs Magnus. “We’re only being friendly. I can think of much better uses for that pretty little mouth than insulting us.”

My fingers close around a rock as he gets closer. My pulse is racing as I stumble to my feet.

“Leave her alone,” says Ryan.

The rat pushes him back.

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