Scarlet’s pulse hiccuped. “Wait—” she started, but Cinder had already put a hand on his wrist and was pressing the gun back down.
“It’s not a glamour,” she said.
“Really?” Thorne leaned toward Cinder and whispered, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
This statement was followed by another long, heady silence, during which Winter passed her sweetest smile between each of them.
Thorne clicked the safety on and shoved the gun back into its holster. “Holy spades, you Lunars have good genes.” An awkward pause followed, before he added, “Who is she?”
“This is Winter,” said Scarlet. “Princess Winter.”
Thorne guffawed and pushed a hand into his hair. “Are we running a boardinghouse for misplaced royalty around here, or what?”
“Princess Winter?” said Cinder. “They just announced that you were murdered.”
“Jacin faked the murder,” said Scarlet, “and helped us escape.”
Cinder’s eyes flashed toward her, surprised. “Jacin?”
Scarlet nodded. “The guard who attacked us aboard the Rampion.”
A shadow fell over Cinder’s expression. She looked away.
“She’s just so pretty.” Iko sighed, feeling her own face for comparison.
Scarlet glared. “She can hear.”
Cocking her head, Winter held out a hand toward Thorne. His eyes widened and it seemed an automatic response to help her to her feet.
He was blushing when Winter took her hand away and adjusted her skirt. “You are all very kind,” she said, but it was Cinder that her attention had landed on. She studied the cyborg, curious. Cinder scrunched her shoulders in tight to her body. “And you,” said Winter, “are my long-lost cousin and very dear friend. I could not believe it until now, but it is true.” Winter took Cinder’s hands into hers. “Do you remember me?”
Cinder slowly shook her head.
“It’s all right,” said Winter, and her expression said that it was all right. “My memories are hazy too, and I’m a year older. Still, I hope we can be good friends again.” She interlaced their fingers. “This hand is unusual,” she said, lifting the titanium-plated one. “Is it made of ashes?”
“Is it made … I’m sorry, what?”
“Don’t,” said Scarlet, waving a hand. “I find it’s better if you don’t ask.”
The princess grinned again. “Forgive me. You are no longer only my friend or my cousin, and this is no way to greet you.” She dropped into a dancer’s curtsy and placed a kiss on Cinder’s metal knuckle. “My Queen, it is my honor to serve you.”
“Er—thank you?” Cinder pried her hand away and hid it behind her back. “That’s kind, but you don’t have to do that. Again. Ever.”
Thorne cleared his throat. “We need to get back to the house. We’ve already risked drawing enough attention, and she…” He looked at Winter. There was an edge to his expression, like he didn’t trust anyone who was more attractive than he was. “… will definitely draw attention.”
Thirty-Three
Wolf helped Scarlet clean and bandage her wounded finger without asking her to tell him what, exactly, had happened. Though his expression had said he was ready to tear out Queen Levana’s jugular, his hands had been breathlessly gentle. Afterward, Scarlet insisted she be given time to bathe, and though Wolf had looked borderline devastated, the time apart was worthwhile. The tiny washroom in his childhood home was by no means luxurious, but it was a far cry from the trough she’d had in the menagerie, and she felt brand-new when she emerged. She and Winter were given new clothes out of Maha Kesley’s meager stash while theirs were washed, though Scarlet was already anxious to have her hoodie back. It had become her own personal armor.
“I can’t believe you kidnapped Prince Kai,” she said, untacking the curtain on the front window to peek outside. Blue daisies in a window box were a solitary spot of color.
“Emperor Kai,” Wolf corrected. He was leaning against the wall, holding the hem of her shirt in his fingers. Winter was taking her turn in the washroom while the others had crowded into the kitchen, trying to cobble together enough food for everyone. Scarlet had heard someone mention rations, and it occurred to her that this tiny household wasn’t meant to support guests, especially so many. Wolf’s mom would be back soon from collecting that week’s supply of food, but of course, that was meant for only one woman.
Scarlet tried to imagine what this must be like for Wolf. To return home more than a decade after being taken away, a grown man with scars and fangs and the blood of countless victims on his hands.
And now … with a girl.
Scarlet was trying not to think about meeting his mother—it all felt too strange.
“Emperor, right.” She retacked the curtain. “That’s weird to say, after eighteen years of listening to celebrity gossip feeds go on and on about ‘Earth’s favorite prince.’” She claimed one of the lumpy sofa cushions, curling her legs beneath her. “I had a picture of him taped to my wall when I was fifteen. Grand-mère cut it off a cereal box.”
Wolf scowled.
“Of course, half the girls in the world probably had that same picture from that same cereal box.”
Wolf scrunched his shoulders against his neck, and Scarlet grinned, teasing. “Oh, no. You’re not going to have to fight him for pack dominance now, are you? Come here.” She beckoned him with a wave of her hand and he was at her side in half a second, the glower softening as he pulled her against his chest.
His brazenness was new—so different from the shyness she’d grown accustomed to. On the Rampion, Wolf was always pattering around his feelings, like he didn’t want to risk the tentative trust they’d started to rebuild since Paris.
Now, when he kissed her or put his arms around her, Scarlet felt like he was staking a claim. Which normally would have sent her on a tirade about relationship independence, except she felt like she’d claimed him a long time ago. The moment she’d expected him to choose her over his pack, the moment she’d dragged him aboard that ship and taken him away from everything he’d ever known, she’d made the decision for them both. He was hers now, just like she was his.
Except she wondered if everything had changed between them, once again. She’d figured he would come back to the farm with her when all this was over, but now he’d been reunited with his mom, the only family he had left. Scarlet could no longer assume she was the most important thing to him, and she knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to choose between her and the family he’d been taken away from. Not now, and maybe not ever.
In the kitchen, a cupboard slammed, saving her from thoughts she wasn’t ready for. Not when she’d just found him again. She heard Thorne say something about freeze-dried cardboard and Iko accuse him of being insensitive to those without any taste buds at all.
Scarlet nestled her head against Wolf’s shoulder. “I was so worried about you.”
“You were worried?” Wolf angled her away from him. “Scarlet—they took you, and I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t know if you were dead, or if they were…” He shuddered. “I would have killed every one of them to get to you. I would have done anything to get you back. Knowing that we were coming here was the only thing that kept me sane.” His brow creased. “Though there were a couple times when I went a little insane anyway.”
Scarlet nudged him with her elbow. “That shouldn’t sound as romantic as it does.”
“Dinner is served,” said Thorne, coming out of the kitchen with a plate in each hand. “And by dinner, I mean soggy brown rice and oversalted meat on stale crackers. You Lunars sure know how to live it up.”