Page 122 of Bound
Chapter 43
Gage
I park the SUV and climb out. The sky is sapphire above me, laden with fat stars and a sliver of moon. Rolling my head on my neck, I don’t bother with the tunnel entrance, but head into the main manor.
The house is not quiet, but not lively either.
Wilfred looks up from the guest counter, his snow-white hair combed in place. “Evening, Master Gage. How was your trip?”
I scoff. “As well as it ever is dealing with the government.”
Even with several all point bulletins out for Ralf, the former councilman is still MIA. And the Mayor is beside himself.
The old human butler nods. “I can imagine.” He steps around the counter and trails me to the stairs. “And Master Gage? Master Knyt wanted to see you as soon as you got in.”
I pause in the middle of the floor. “Really? Why?”
“I am just the messenger, sir. But I believe it has to do with Captain Wade’s trial.”
Unease stokes the fire in my gut. “Okay, Wilfred. Do you know what room he is in?”
“I gave him and the other Fae lords the last ones on the hall.” He points to the guest corridor. “Next to the last room.
Nodding my thanks, I start for the stairs, intent of briefing Markus first.
“And Master Gage?”
I turn, trying not to smirk. “Yes, Wilfred?”
The old butler’s expression is solemn. “He did not seem to be in a waiting mood. I fear several of the other guests overheard his raised voice earlier. I know Lady Amoret was most distressed when she came back in, and—”
Rage seethes inside my stomach. “He yelled at her?”
Wilfred takes a step back, his eyes widening. “I am unsure, Master Gage. I was not—”
With a snarl, I spin on my heel and head for the end of the hall.
The doors are all closed and I reach the middle room and grasp the doorknob hard enough to break it. Pushing inward on the panel, I storm inside.
Branwen glances up from a small table near the bathroom, his gaze mild. I know the moment it registers that it is me in his doorway because his expression darkens.
“Whitehorn,” he says.
I step inside and slam the door. “Did you fucking yell at her?”
He raises a brow. “At who?”
“Cut the shit, Bran. Did you fucking yell at Amoret?”
“Now you worry about her?” His voice is all scathing ice through the room. “Tell me, Whitehorn, what did you feel when you took her to bed?”
Shock ripples through me and I take a step back.
Strong hands close over the sides of my head and I wrench free.
Cusnu sidles up to my side, a long dirk held aloft in his hand. He presses the needle sharp tip into my throat. “Move, and I slit you from ear to ear.”
My anger is as sharp as his blade. “Too cowardly to confront me one on one?” I snap at Bran. “Fine. I’ll beat all three of you into pulps.”
