I’d hunt you down, the male holding me so close it was hard to believe we’d ever been strangers had said.

The threat of tears advanced with force.

I needed to make sure that didn’t happen.

Vordane and its smiteful king and the wolf beneath me were too much for our kingdom to survive. If Rorn came here, if he brought our warriors and his wrath…

Stars only knew what might eventuate from it all.

We were barely surviving the hatred of humans we’d once welcomed and trusted. We wouldn’t survive the cunning and vengeful nature of the fae.

I closed my eyes, kept my breathing even, and reluctantly called forth the beginning of the end. “Scythe?”

He gave a hummed rumble.

“I have to go, wolf…” I swallowed thickly. “And soon.”

He tensed. “Why?” A grunted, sleep-thickened bark.

I would have to lie, and so I did. “I have a pet raccoon who’s probably fretting.”

His finger stilled at my lower back. Rather than wiggle to make him continue stroking, I waited as he made a sound of amusement and said, “A raccoon?”

“Her name is Nibbles.” I leaned back into his arm to read his expression, to see if he believed me, a part of me desperately hoping he wouldn’t.

He snorted and pressed his lips together. “Okay, but she’s a raccoon.” He said the words slowly. “She’s probably fine.”

Looking up at the male holding me a little tighter than moments before, however that was possible, I withheld a sigh at seeing the stubborn glint in his eye.

It was time to deliver the truth if I wanted him to make this easier for me. For us both, really.

And I so desperately wanted this to be easier.

For if he knew, he’d certainly balk. He might even get so angry he’d demand I leave right away. Then I could return home with nothing but memories to keep me warm during the cold nights ahead. No need for anything else. For ties I couldn’t keep.

“Scythe,” I said gently. Perhaps too gently.

He tensed again. Seeming to sense I was about to say something he couldn’t excuse away and ignore, each word was clipped. “What is it?”

“I don’t have a raccoon.” I couldn’t look at him. I knew that made me a coward, but I wouldn’t be able to carry the memory of his reaction with me, too. “I have a husband.”

He ceased breathing, every particle of air in the room stilling with him.

Then he coughed, croaking out, “Did you just say husband?”

Fear made it easier to leave his warmth and sit up. He didn’t stop me, rolling away himself to the side of the bed.