I loved Curran, and most of the time being with him was so easy. But when it was difficult, it nearly broke me. I wondered if it was like that for him, too. Being alone was simpler, but I couldn’t give him up. He made me happy. So happy that I kept looking over my shoulder, as if I had stolen something and any minute someone would demand I give it back.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” I said.

“What?”

“You and me. This wasn’t in the plan. The plan was to be alone, to hide, and to kill Roland. Being happy was never one of the bullet points. Some part of me is still convinced it’s a fluke and eventually it will be ripped away from me. Deep down I expect it. Any hint of it and I roll down the cliff. You’re mine, you know that, right? If you ever try to leave me, it won’t go well.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Curran said. The same desperate thing I saw last night flickered in his eyes. “But I got you and I’m an entitled selfish bastard. You’re all mine. Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t. If you ever disappeared, I would leave the Pack and I would look for you until I found you. However long it took.”

I knew he wasn’t lying. I could feel it. He would find me.

“I’ll try not to disappear.”

“Thank you,” he said.

* * *

When the sunrise splashed over the mountains, Astamur guided us to town, where we said our good-byes. I asked if there was anything we could do for him. He just shook his head. “Next time someone comes to you for help, help them for me. I help you, you help them, we keep it going.”

We climbed the road, me and the enormous lion. It was decided that fur was preferable to no clothes, and although Astamur had offered some, they wouldn’t fit Curran and we both had a feeling the shepherd didn’t have that many clothes anyway. The castle loomed before us.

I sighed.

“I know,” Curran said, human words emerging perfectly from the leonine mouth. “We’re almost done.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time you see Hugh.”

A low growl reverberated in Curran’s throat.

“Temper, Your Majesty.”

We both knew that picking a fight with Hugh was still out of the question. I still had no idea what his plan was. He’d gotten me into this castle. He wasn’t trying to actively murder me. He flattered me and called me special. If things kept going this way . . . I shuddered.

Curran looked at me.

“Just pondering what Hugh’s version of flowers and candy will look like.”

“Like bloody mush,” Curran said. “Because I will crush his head and his brain will ooze out of his ears.”

I just wanted to know what the final plan was.