She Wore My Twin's Hide, So I Carried Her Mate's Heir novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The War-Chief

Dane refuses the arrangement, the king overrules him, and he scents that I am no servant.

The east tower had one window, one bed and a long spiral of stone stairs.

I followed Maud to the top as she climbed with a basket on her hip and never once breathed hard.

"Bread, cheese, two blankets," she said, and put the basket down. "Chamber pot's behind the screen. Don't open the shutters. The wind comes straight off the north ridge."

"Thank you, Mistress Maud."

"Maud." She looked me over with small sharp eyes. "You walk like someone I used to know."

My stomach went cold.

"I get that a lot," I said.

"I'm sure you do."

She left without another word.

I sat on the bed and listened to the castle breathe below me.

It took until the sun was low before I heard boots on the stairs, heavy and fast and angry.

The door opened without a knock.

The man who stood in it filled the frame.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and short brown hair, and a scar ran along his jaw from the ear to the chin.

He had green eyes, and he was looking at me.

"So you're the seamstress," he said.

"Bren."

"Dane Ardent."

He didn't offer a hand.

"I'll make this short," he said. "I know what Rowena's told you. I won't do it. You can go back downstairs and tell her you changed your mind, and I'll give you enough silver to leave the castle tonight."

"You'd pay me to refuse her?"

"I'd pay you to live."

I looked at him.

He meant it.

He was a big man standing in a small room trying very hard to take up less space.

"Why don't you refuse her yourself?" I said.

"I have."

"And?"

A second set of boots sounded on the stairs, slower, with a stick tapping in time.

Dane's jaw tightened.

"That," he said.

The Alpha King came through the door with his black mantle over his arm.

He had to duck for the lintel.

I dropped into a curtsey.

"Leave us," he said to me, and then, "No. Stay. You'll hear this."

Dane turned to face him.

"Sire. I told you I won't do this."

"You told me last night. You told me this morning. You've told me for three days." The king's voice was flat as a table. "The Moon Rite is in seven months. The clans will be watching her. They'll be watching whether she can lead. And when they see a baby on her arm by the wedding, they'll stop asking questions."

"There's another way."

"There isn't."

"Then marry another man to her and let me go."

"You swore an oath to me, Dane."

Dane went still.

It was the kind of stillness I knew from wolves about to jump.

"I swore to guard you and your line," he said. "I didn't swear to sire a lie."

"You swore to do as I command," the king said, "for as long as the line needs you."

He looked at me.

His pale eyes went over my face for one long moment, and something flickered and was gone.

"She's a strong girl," he said. "You'll find it's not the worst of orders."

Then he left, with his stick tapping all the way down.

Dane stood with his fists closed.

I waited.

After a while he said, without looking at me, "I'm sorry you heard that."

"I've heard worse."

"I doubt it."

"I've heard Rowena Marrow tell a hall full of wolves to forget a murder."

His head came up.

I hadn't meant to say it.

My plan had been to be nothing, a quiet seamstress, a pair of hands.

But he was looking at me now, and he wasn't looking at a servant.

He took one step closer and breathed in.

It was a quick breath, the kind a wolf takes without meaning to.

"You don't smell like a servant," he said.

"What does a servant smell like?"

"Like soap and fear." He frowned. "You smell like cold water and pine. Like something that hasn't woken up yet."

My pulse went off.

He heard it.

I watched him hear it.

"Who are you?" he said quietly.

"Bren."

"That isn't what I asked."

"It's the only answer you're getting."

We stood there, close enough that I could see a pale thread through the green of his eyes.

He should have thrown me out.

He didn't.

"Tell me one thing," he said. "You said murder. Why that word?"

"Because that's what it was."

"You hate her."

"I do."

Something moved in his face then, something that wasn't anger.

"Good," Dane said. "So do I."

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