Page 138 of The Night Prince

I sit up straighter. “What about Ryan?”

“He’s fine. He tried to visit you earlier, but Blake has been a little bit... protective of you. You’ve been unconscious for twenty-four hours. He only just left your side.”

“He’s. . . he’s okay?”

“Yes. Your mate”—I wince, and Philip’s grin widens—“is okay.”

I put the glass of water down, and my shirtsleeve swallows my hand. It’s black and baggy, and smells like forests and fairytales. Blake’s shirt. He must have changed me out of the bloody rags I was wearing when he carried me out of the amphitheater.

The crack of the whip and the wet sound of my skin splitting open reverberates through my mind, and I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Blake’s scent curls around me, and I release a breath.

“Is it safe here?” I ask.

“For now, it seems. Alexander’s army are otherwise occupied with Callum’s army.” Philip shifts in the chair. There’s a leather satchel at his feet.

“Are you going somewhere?” I ask.

He glances at the door, then lowers his voice. “Yes. And I want you to come with me. We should stick to the original plan. Come to the Snowlands with me. I realize things might have changed between you and Blake, but there’s something off about him. I still don’t trust him. The Wolves will tear you apart when they find out what you are, and Goddess forbid Father ever discovers it...”

“I can’t come with you. There’s something I need to do.”

He holds my gaze, his eyes searching, then inclines his head. “Okay.”

“I saw her, Philip. I saw Mother.”

His eyebrows lift before a pitying look crosses his face. “She’s dead, little sister.”

“I’m aware of that,” I say. “I just... I don’t know. Perhaps it was just a dream, or a suppressed memory, or my mind making sense of all the things I saw when I was young—but Iknow that what she told me was true. Father hurt her. He killed her, Philip.”

He nods, and something like shame crosses his face. “I thought as much.”

I bite my bottom lip. “Do you... do you want to help me?”

“I should. I wish I could. There’s something I must do first, too. I’ve not been entirely honest with you, Sister. The reason why I was caught by surprise when Alexander could command me was because I was claimed by another alpha in the Snowlands.”

“Ingrid?”

“No.” He smiles sadly. “An alpha named Fenrir.”

My eyebrows knit together as recognition jolts through me. “He is the wolf Alexander said was in the prison cell, with Blake and the others.”

Philip nods.

“If both Alexander and Blake worship Night—” I say.

“Fenrir worshipped him, too. He made no claim to be doing otherwise. He was horrifying, and I committed many atrocities in his name. If I could go back and change things...” He shakes his head. “I thought he was dead. I didn’t realize that my allegiance would fall back to Alexander after he’d gone.” His expression darkens, and I get a rare glimpse of what my brother—the heir to the throne—would look like if he actually cared about ruling the kingdom. “The thing is, when Alexander died, something snapped then reformed. I felt him again. Fenrir. I think... I think he’s back. And if he’s back, Ingrid needs me.”

“Because you love her,” I say. Philip bites his cheek. When he doesn’t reply, I smile weakly. “Go to her. I’ve a feeling we will need an alliance with her in the coming months.”

Philip nods. An awkward silence hangs between us before Philip pulls me into an embrace. We have never hugged before, and I’m not sure what to do with my limbs. From the tension in his arms, I don’t think he quite knows what to do, either.

“I’m not sure we should attempt this again.” His words are muffled in my hair.

I pull back, the corners of my lips tugging upward, despite everything that has happened. “I’m not sure. Perhaps we’ll get better at it.”

He grins, then stands. “Be safe.”

“And you.”

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