Mated to the Warg, (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

Bloodthirsty Bog Lilies

Meera had lit a few lamps earlier and, though it was dim by human standards, she knew Merritt could see well enough. Behind her, Thrax said nothing, his silence feeding the painful knot in her throat.

She swallowed past the knot so that her voice was clear and steady. "You have to go home, Merritt. I hate that you came all this way, but you must leave without me."

He'd been studying the hall, but his eyes swung to her, appalled. "But...the plan! Our plan!" He shook his head. "When you didn't make it to the bridge that night, I knew to come here."

"What plan?" Thrax growled.

"I came to rescue my wife!"

Thrax's lip curled dangerously, fangs unsheathed. "She is no longer your wife, lordling. And if you misspeak again, you'll be back among the mowraths where I found your sorry carcass."

She studied Merritt's wan face. It was sadly ironic that the rescuers had required the rescuing in the end. "So this was the disturbance you left to investigate this morning."

It hadn't been a question, but he answered anyway. "Yes, and little did I know I'd be salvaging a rescue party." He stalked nearer, eyes seething yellow. "One you schemed up, it seems."

She swallowed. "Can you blame me? I did it the night you stole me away! On my wedding night no less. That was before—"

His he balled his clawed fists. "So I'm to blame?"

Merritt cleared his throat. "Erm—"

"Not now, Merritt." She jabbed a finger at Thrax, mid-chest. "You can't condemn me for something I did in fear."

"I'm to believe you now? When you're so good at lying."

She flushed, hating that she was to be always reminded of her little lie. "This is all a mistake."

"Your coming here was a mistake, is it?"

She hissed in frustration. "No! You know that's not what I mean!"

His gaze narrowed to glowing slits. "Don't tell me what I know."

"Enough!" Both Thrax and Rowan turned as Merritt kicked a chair aside. "Enough!" he said again, his blue eyes cold as they stabbed her.

Thrax eyed Merritt like some odd, colorful little insect as the boy stormed past him towards her.

"I did not come all this way," said Merritt, "nor lose half my soldiers, just to be ignored and dismissed. You bade me rescue you, and so I came despite your lady mother refusing to spare even one man from her garrison." He gripped her hands and knelt before her despite Thrax's menacing growl. "Not even my uncle would help. But I came anyway."

"I wish you hadn't," she said, voice brittle with pity and guilt. She pulled her hands free, leaving his bereft. "The night I left—"

"Our wedding night."

She gritted her teeth. "That night I was a rambling naïve girl."

"And has that girl changed so much in so little time?" There was a hopeful lilt in his tone—a wish to the contrary. He grabbed her hands again, his own were clammy.

She snatched them back, stepping away before Thrax took it into his head to grab the boy by his scruff and throw him to the mirok. "I am a girl no longer. I'm a mated woman, Merritt." And she realized then that, had she stayed—had Thrax never come for her—she'd have remained that spoiled, stilted girl Merritt seemed to cherish.

A heavy silence followed. Merritt studied her with a stark expression. Thankfully, though, his eyes remained dry this time. He'd spent all his tears, it seemed. Then he glanced between her and the wargrex, never quite meeting Thrax's eyes. "You" —he licked his lips— "you sound serious."