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line I tread, unsure why I did so, I nudged him. “Is that all you want?”
    “Would you give me more?” His voice took on a rugged quality that gave me chills.
    “It depends.” I laughed to loosen the knot in my chest. “What else is in that cache of yours?”
    The grin spreading across his face made him dangerously handsome. “Perhaps I’ll show you sometime.” He stepped back and exposed an intricate metal trap set in the stone wall with silvery metal teeth and serrated jaws. I watched him slide five pins into the hinged joints before looking away. His tone was apologetic. “In case you’re tempted to double back and treasure hunt alone.”
    “Put your mind at ease.” I wiggled my fingers. “I value my hands too much to risk them.”
    He captured my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth, where he kissed my pointer finger.
    The gesture was so tender, so unexpected, it shattered me. “Tell me about your wife.”
    “We should leave.” He swept past me without a backward glance. “It’s getting late.”
    Knowing I should let it go, doubting he would answer me, I caught his arm. “One question.”
    His head fell back, and his eyes drank in the sky over our heads. “One.”
    “Did you love her?” It was the most important thing I could think to ask.
    “Yes.” He shrugged free of me, and I was left alone with the fruits of my curiosity.

Chapter Four
    Quiet stifled Brynmor, pressed on him until his chest strained to expand. Not that breathing was a requirement of his new existence, but it was a soothing habit he should maintain while he kept Daraja’s company. The female had questions enough without him inspiring more of them.
    Night slid over his skin and left him mourning the loss of the sun’s warmth.
    While guiding Daraja to the den, he noticed she was surefooted despite the absence of light. Her clan must be gifted with keen night vision, the same as the Mimetidae. It explained why she was comfortable hunting alone in the dark. Though he wished she hunted during the day instead.
    “How long do you think it will be before the hunters try again?” Daraja asked.
    It seemed he wasn’t the only one bothered by the silence.
    “A couple of days I imagine.” He frowned. “It depends on the purpose behind the kills.”
    “You think they may not strike again?” She sounded as doubtful as he felt.
    “They killed two canis last night. If they are Mimetidae, then leaving the city will be difficult. Since the plague struck Cathis, guards watch the comings and goings of the citizens much closer than they once did. If the hunters left and returned empty-handed, they would arouse suspicion.”
    Meaning they required time to hunt not only their intended targets, but other game as well.
    “They also need time to begin curing their trophies before they spoil.” Her sigh caressed his arm. “I wish we knew if they took the same trophies from the second canis as they did the first.”
    “It’s been hours since…” Brynmor slowed. “The river would have washed the body away by now.”
    “It might have.” Daraja’s touch was gentle on his arm. “But it may still be worth the walk.”
    Knowing Errol, he had gone searching for Karenna after Brynmor left with Daraja. Errol might accept Karenna’s death, but he wouldn’t leave her body in the river by choice. Since Brynmor’s hands made him more suited for the task, if the pack failed to retrieve her, then Brynmor would.
    “Are you up to it?” Brynmor appraised Daraja. She had walked a good ways for one day.
    She brushed past his shoulder. “I offered, didn’t I?”
    Rather than return to the den and face the grim countenances of his grieving pack mates, Brynmor fell in step with Daraja and let her lead him to the river. With a grin, he admitted she much improved his view. The way her hips swung while she walked made him think she moved to music heard by her ears alone. What must that be like? To be carefree, with her whole life spread before