Page 23 of A Single Thread Of Hope

I looked back over at Wren, because it was nearly impossible to keep my eyes away when she was in the room. She was running a hand over the underside of her stomach. “She’s been doing that a lot,” Tryp murmured, and I realized we were both looking at her.

“Rubbing her stomach? Yeah, I noticed. You think it’s just the babies moving around? Or muscle strain? Or…” I trailed off, because the other option involved contractions, and I wasn’t ready for that. The idea of losing her terrified me.

The prophecy delivered by Apollo had been pretty succinct: that she had to die for the babies to live. It might be just one possible outcome, or it might have been Apollo talking shit, but the possibility that it was true was like acid in my veins.

She looked happy enough, though, laughing with thebean-sidheClio, and petting the kitten who’d migrated from herstomach to her chest. It was probably just growing pains. She’d been complaining of her hips hurting earlier.

A howl went up, and the dog at my feet skittered away, the piece of juicy, hot lamb forgotten. Half the dogs cleared out of the courtyard; the other half raced toward Wren. I searched out Cy, who had his head tilted to a large dog, listening intently.

He looked over at us, his expression panicked. “The Moirai are here.” With that, he transformed into a white dog and disappeared.

The Fates were here? How had they made it so close?

Demke was immediately on his feet. “You know what to do. Everyone in position. Milo, take her somewhere safe.”

Shifting her into his arms, Milo climbed to his feet, but Wren slapped his chest. “Wait! Just fucking wait. Cy! Get back here.” She wiggled in Milo’s arms until he was forced to put her down. “Cy!”

Cy reappeared from around the corner, switching back into his human form, sans clothes. He pecked a quick kiss on Wren’s cheek, and I wanted to growl. “Sorry. I had to check it out.”

Rolling her eyes, she gripped his chin, forcing him to stop his marking and look at her. “Did the pack say if anyone else is with them? Another army? Titans?”

Shaking his head, Cy spoke to the huge mutt beside him. “Attie says there isn’t anyone further out either.”

Demke looked disapprovingly at both Cy and the dog. “Excuse me if I don’t trust your intel. How did they get so damn close, unless the pack missed something? You’re meant to be the sentries.”

Attie, the mutt, growled low, and Cy’s lips pulled back from his teeth in his own human version of a snarl. “They portaled in. My hounds threw up an alarm as soon as they were spotted, which is a lot more than your wards did.”

“Hey!” I protested, but he was right. The wards still hadn’t gone off, which meant that someone had disabled them without me knowing.

I wasn’t a wardsmith. I wasn’t even good at it. I’d been able to maintain the very basics for a few centuries, simply because there hadn’t ever been anyone who seriously wanted to make it across them.

Until now.

Wren raised a hand. “We can bicker like a bunch of old people later. If it’s just the Fates, I want to talk to them. I have a few fucking questions that need answers.”

We all protested at once, but the stubborn tilt to her chin told me that we could protest all we liked. Unless we wanted to pick her up and physically move her against her will, this was happening.

“I have a matching set of Celtic War deities, some of the fiercest warriors of any Mythics, and an entire pack of dogs. If we can’t hold back the Fates for one conversation, then we’re in much more trouble than we thought.” She looked between Demke and Néit, who was once again holding his big ax.

Where did he even pull that from?

She sucked in a deep breath. “Please. I trust you to keep me safe.”

The ward made the ominousknock, knock, knockreverberate around the entire compound. We all deferred to Néit. If anyone had their entire heart and soul wrapped up in Wren, it was him. He was the strategic one. The God of War.

He let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay. But you stay behind us, and you run if we tell you to run. Got it?”

She nodded solemnly. “Let’s go meet these bitches.”

Chapter 13

WREN

Imight’ve wanted answers, but no one had prepared me for the rage I felt, looking at the three women in front of me. They were vastly different, but so obviously related. I wondered if they’d started as triplets, but then aged differently. Or if their different roles had just become etched on their faces. Either way, I recognized the one on the right, though she looked decades younger than the last time I’d seen her.

“You!”

I mean, we’d all but decided that my babies were the result of that fucking apple, but standing in front of me was irrefutable proof. The fruit cart lady was there, grinning at me with a face that was barely fifty in age, her smarmy expression making me want to launch through the door and scratch out her eyes.

---