Page 92 of The Enemy to the Living
She reaches up and flicks me on the forehead. I think everyone else is too startled to do anything—except Dante, who laughs from his seat in the corner. Ophelia whips around and glares at him.
“What?” he says, still laughing. “Makes a change for it not to be me.”
Ophelia clicks her tongue against her teeth and turns back to me again. “Don’t go making deals with the fae again. Being out of sync with your wolf is normal. Drew was most of the way there when he came here and I’ve seen wolves in my old pack go through it before. I could have helped, Quinn. We all could have.”
My wolf whimpers. I stretch my fingers, part of me wanting to shift again, just to see if I can do it.
“I know. I’m so—”
Drew’s palm lands on my mouth and I glare when he chuckles. “You said enough sorrys,” he says with a shrug. “Maurice will tell us where Asher is, won’t he?”
“Maybe,” Kieran says, eyes narrowed. “But if Maurice says you need to heal—”
“My love,” Lucien murmurs, his own type of warning. “There is no one on earth who will keep Quinn safer than his mate. You know that.”
Mymate. My wolf trembles in anticipation, in frustration, but we’re also surrounded by pack, and there’s a lazy comfort to that, too. I can wait until Maurice arrives. I also do want to be surethat everything is fine again. Sure, Ifeelit, but that doesn’t mean much.
Twenty minutes after the sun goes down, Sam lifts from where he’s now sitting in Drew’s lap. We’ve moved out into my living room, and I’m not sure who, but someone’s dragged another sofa in from one of the other flats. Maybe Dax—he and Vince are here now, too, their presence another comfort.
All in all, it’s a tight fit, and Maurice outright grins when he follows Sam through the door. Njáll comes in after him, looking just as amused.
“You need a bigger pack house, alpha,” Maurice says to Kieran, who rolls his eyes. Deacon draws Njáll away to talk in the corner—about the twins, maybe—and Maurice makes a beeline for me.
“Dangerous thing, losing your wolf like that,” Maurice murmurs. He tilts my head up and his eyes run down my throat, to my chest. I’m wearing a T-shirt now, but even if I weren’t, I know that’s not where he’s looking. “You’re not all lucky enough to get blessings.”
My gaze snaps to his. He knows about Asher, then.
“I know.”
Maurice hums. Something pokes at my wolf, the sensation unfamiliar, and when he gnashes, Maurice laughs, pulling his magic back. “You’re fine. From a magical standpoint, anyway. I imagine there’s some shifting or something you need to do, but Paxton told me they took some of your wolf—doesn’t look like it’s hurt him, though.”
“Took some?”
“For the magic of it,” Maurice says with a nod. “They said they wanted high fae magic and wolf magic to open the veil. Sent Grant into a tizzy hearing that, though I don’t know why.”
“Is that… Is that what they did with Bryn?” It is, isn’t it? They told me, but the memory is all fuzzy, tied up in too much pain and fear.
“I believe so. It didn’t work. They wanted Asher’s blessing because his magic is already linked to yours.”
“And now…?”
“Vlad, Jeremiah, and Paxton are all out looking for Sorrel.” He glances back at Njáll. “I’m joining them after this.”
“Asher?” I ask.
“Sent him home. He needs some sleep.”
“Oh.”
Maurice eyes me for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “Wolves,” he mutters.
“Maurice,” Njáll rumbles from across the room.
“Go and see him, Quinn,” Maurice says. “He’s not going to rest until you’re with him anyway.”
“Yeah? Yeah, okay.”
It still takes some coaxing and encouragement for Kieran to let me out of his sight. For a moment, he seems determined to come with me, which only ends when both Sam and Lucien lay down the law as Drew subtly ushers me over to the front door.
