Uncaged by Celia McMahon

Author:Celia McMahon [mcmahon, Celia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Parliament House

19

Ashe’s dwelling turned out to be more than the cave I expected. He kicked open the door of a small home that may have been used as a hunting lodge long ago and brought Sonia inside, where he set her upon a neatly made bed.

The doorway was too small to enter in wolf-form, so Fray and I changed. Seeing as we’d left our clothes somewhere in the forest, Fray moved to block me as we stood just inside the home. Ashe glanced our way and closed his eyes briefly.

“I’ve seen more of you naked than any woman in my lifetime,” he said to Fray and retrieved two oversized cloaks from the corner. They were made of fur—bear, maybe—but it was better than nothing. Fray growled at Ashe’s proffered hand but took the cloaks anyway.

The house smelled like death and was clad with furs and antlers upon the walls. A large fire blazed from the hearth, casting a warmth in the home that reminded me a lot of where I lived back at the Den. Except this house was composed of one larger open room that served as a single living space. I watched as Ashe took a bottle and poured a bit of its contents into a cup that he forced down Sonia’s throat. I strode around the dwelling, willing myself to come to terms with what had just happened.

“She’ll heal, right?” Ashe asked, true worry etched on his face. When Fray and I failed to answer, he turned away and let the piled furs drop from his shoulders. The prince was thinner than when we’d first met; I could see the hollowness in his cheeks and the leanness of his arm. Something about that panged my heart just as it had when Ashe had come to the doors of the Den, freezing and begging for death.

Fray paced the home, taking in the horrible decor. He passed a torn-up armchair, a wobbly table with a single chair tucked against it. “She will,” he replied plainly. He wore the angriest of expressions. He was furious with me for joining the battle—that much I was sure about. But was he thinking of how the other wolves had treated him? I couldn’t be sure. He was too closed off.

Ashe nodded and scratched his face. His beard was full and wiry and matched the length of his hair. He wasn’t fooling me. The softness in his eyes betrayed the wild look he seemed to have worked so hard at achieving. A man stripped of his royal status should have looked a little more lost after being alone in the mountains for months. Ashe didn’t look lost. He looked more found than any one of us.

Tearing my stare from Fray, I said to Ashe, “Did you shoot your bow with that cuff on your arm?”

“I fashioned it with scraps I found around this cabin,” Ashe replied, without expression. He awaited my response.

“A skill,” I said.

Fray grumbled, but I ignored him.

“I’ve learned a lot,” he replied. “Much you don’t know.

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