Dread blooms in my chest at the clear sign of a pain episode. I need to get out, and quickly. I look toward the doorway as I take a long sip of my wine. Gaven seems to notice my agitation. I see a question in his eyes, but there’s no easy way out of this room right now.

A bright orange aura swells in my periphery. I turn back to face Stefan. He’s more clean-cut than I would expect of a mountain man, but perhaps he thinks the clean-shaven face and slicked-back dark hair fool people. The look in his dark eyes is too intense.

His magic probes at me. The gifts of the Divine of Malice have tendrils that reach out, looking for a way to hook into their victim.

But this isn’t like what happened with Seth, because Stefan doesn’t have surprise on his side. Fear and manipulation magic requires finding a way into the other person’s psyche. It’s bold of him since he doesn’t know what my magic is, but it wouldn’t be the first time a man tried to test me.

I steel myself, giving him nothing but a confident smile. I’ve met plenty of men of his measure, and most of them are dead now.

He prods at me with his magic, looking for any hint of fear or doubt. When he realizes he can’t get his hooks in me, he draws back and gives me a long, lascivious look. “When I heard the rumors that you were marrying a Carrenwell, I didn’t believe it, Henry. You, of all people.”

Henry’s hand slides from my back to curve around my waist.

“But now I see the appeal, though I thought it would take more than a pretty face for you to forget who failed to keep us safe ten years ago,” Stefan says.

Henry bristles, his hand flexing on my waist. “I’m focused on securing our future, not the tragedy of our past. You’ve never been one for forethought, though. That’s why you’re up here being rude to my bride-to-be in front of everyone. That’s why you seem to have conveniently forgotten that those who live on principles alone die by them.”

Stefan stills, as if considering whether to press on or go back to his seat. “Heartwarming to see you so protective already, but I simply had to come say hello after your bride spent so much time eye-fucking me earlier.”

I laugh from sheer shock. “That’s one way to see things. I was simply studying you, like when you spot a beast in the wild. But I don’t play with wild animals. I hunt them.”

Stefan’s smug grin disintegrates. “Sharp tongue for a city girl.”

“What can I say? I like the taste of blood,” I say.

Stefan’s eyebrows shoot up, and he looks from me to Henry. “Do you?” A sly smile splits his face. “I guess you’ll fit right in with this parasitic family who lives off the hard labor of the people of Mountain Haven.”

I should probably make peace, not war—I need Henry to work with me, after all—but I can’t help myself when a man needs to be put in his place.

I cock my head to the side and nearly wince from the pulsing pressure growing behind my eyes. “And yet, here you are dining at their table and drinking their wine after trying to use your magic on me just moments ago.”

Stefan frowns. I can practically see his resolve waning—the recognition that he’s chosen the wrong approach and made a bad first impression.

“Now, now, lovely. Let’s be cordial,” Henry chides.

Stefan crosses his arms and juts his chin out, clearly eager for a public conflict with Henry. He understands I’m more than just a pawn now. I’m curious to see how he uses that information and what I might be able to learn from his efforts.

Henry obviously lacks that wisdom, but his underestimation is my advantage, so I’m not about to educate him until I’m certain I can land a killing blow.

“Shall we speak privately?” Henry asks. There’s a subtle threat in his tone.

Stefan purses his lips. “Are you challenging me?”

“Merely asking if we need to have a private conversation,” Henry says coolly.

I want to stay and watch how this drama unfolds between Henry and Stefan. Any enemy of Henry’s is someone worth at least paying attention to. If I can learn what the pain points are for the people of Mountain Haven, I can figure out who is most willing to share secrets about the Havenwoods.

Pain pulses to life behind my eyes. I need to leave while Henry’s distracted, speaking in hushed whispers with Stefan. What was a mild ache is growing more powerful by the second. I close my eyes to chase away the sensation, but when I open them, a bright ring of white light mutes my vision.

Panic twists in my chest. I’m having an episode in a room full of people who won’t stop staring at me.

There are two doors to an outside patio directly across from me. It’s not ideal, but it’s an option. There are three more sets of doors behind us, but I can’t see the clearest route without projecting my intention to bolt.

I try to bargain with the merciless god of my body not to do this now, in a room full of adversaries, so far from home. But the pain has no master. It is a clawed beast that I can’t fight off much longer. I need to run.

I look at Gaven and tap my breastbone three times. By the mercy of some Divine who doesn’t hate me, he takes the hint. He closes the space between us in a few quick strides, but before he can get to me, Henry takes my hand.

“A dance, lovely?”

I look beyond him, but Stefan is gone—chased back to his table and glaring daggers at Henry.

I frown up at Henry. His aura has turned into a bright, shining purple light.

This is catastrophically bad timing. Even with my head throbbing and my vision swimming in light, I can feel every eye in the room on us.

Henry leans closer, his face coming into focus. “Your pupils are huge. Did you take something?”

I shake my head. A mistake. The blood in my head sloshes and I almost fall over from the wave of dizziness. “Too much wine.”

There’s a chuckle from the table beside us and a few hushed whispers I can’t make out. I’m mortified, but it’s better they think I’m a lightweight than defective.

The last place I need to show a weak spot is miles from home in the heart of a hostile fort. The only person in this room that I trust is Gaven, and I only trust him enough to get me back to my room safely.

Henry’s head snaps to the side, clearly noticing that Gaven is making his way toward me.

“What’s going on, Harlow?” Henry whispers.

“I think I just need to lie down. The wine went to my head.”

He dips his head. The winter-forest scent of him hits me all at once, and I have to fight the urge to lean into him—to tuck my face into the crook of his neck and rest.

Clearly, I’m very unwell.

Henry is not my salvation. He’s not even my friend. He is just the means to an end. My end, if I’m not more careful.

“Tell me what’s going on right now,” Henry whispers.

“I did,” I snap.

My vision turns splotchy, blood pounding in my ears. The attack is coming on so fast. It used to take longer. I used to have more time to hide. It’s getting worse.

“Gaven will take me back to my room now. Thank you for being so concerned about me getting a good night sleep. Such a doting husband-to-be,” I say loudly.

Several chuckles rise from the tables around us. They think I’m taunting him, and I guess I am, but I’d rather be seen to be teasing than fleeing.

Behind Henry’s shoulder, the dark splotch of Gaven comes into view. I know him by his naturally rigid gait, because he’s walked beside me my whole life and I have often needed to find him while blind with pain and trying to hide it.

The ache is splitting me open, nausea turning over the little bit of dinner I managed to force down. It’s coming on much too fast. I need to get out of this room before I completely implode. I step around Henry and take Gaven’s arm.

“Good night, my wolf,” I say over my shoulder, forcing my face into a bright, teasing smile.

Just before we step out of the room, I hear Bryce laugh and mimic, “My wolf.”