Page 21 of Kiss of Embers

“Find anything interesting in there?”

Drute crossed the tent with two steaming mugs in his hands. He placed one at my elbow before sitting in the chair to my right.

Grimacing, I pushed the book away from me. “Not unless you’re into reading about the most gruesome deaths imaginable.” The scent of chamomile drifted from my mug. I curled my hands around the ceramic, letting the heat seep into my skin. “Thanks for this,” I told Drute.

He smiled as he blew on his own tea. “I spiked it with rum. If I thought I could get away with it, I would have added a sleeping potion.” He glanced at the book. “You need rest, not anecdotes about Games that happened centuries ago.”

Frustration rose. “I thought if I studied enough, I might find a pattern among the challenges.” Every Games was different, and that variety was a big part of what made the competition difficult. The challenges came in all kinds of unpredictable shapes and sizes. I shook my head. “I have no idea if I’m going to end up swimming across a crocodile-infested bog or fighting my way through a legion of zombies on a battlefield.”

Drute set his mug down. His dark eyes reflected the light of the lanterns positioned around the tent. “We should discuss what happens if the Rules Committee decides you can’t compete.”

Fresh anger fired in my veins. “I still can’t believe Brader showed up. His spies must be more deeply embedded in the pack than I thought.” My anger flared higher as I shuffled through a mental list of likely contenders. “I bet it was Alix. He probably caught up with Brader after the funeral.”

Drute cleared his throat. “In my opinion, the dragons pose the bigger threat.”

Wariness—and something else I didn’t want to examine too closely—stole through me. “What do you mean?”

“Inessa was right to warn you about them. If the dragons truly believe you’re their female, they won’t rest until they claim you. But this could just as easily be a ruse on their part.”

“A ruse?”

Drute nodded. “Even now, the other competitors are likely petitioning Bolveg to remove you from the Games. If the dragons want to win badly enough, they’ll take Brader’s claim of an unfair advantage and run with it, petitioning for the Rules Committee to grant Brader’s request.”

I gripped my mug more tightly. “But the Committee would throw them out too.”

“Not if the dragons convince Bolveg to let them stay. The dragons have a history of allying themselves with various demon kingdoms. It wouldn’t surprise me to learn they’re visiting Bolveg tonight. Anything to narrow the field.” Drute nodded toward the book. “If you’ve read about the Games, you already know that backstabbing and underhanded tactics are part of the strategy.”

I sat back in my chair, the tea’s warmth forgotten. “What can I do? Should I seek out Bolveg?” I wasn’t certain where the demon had pitched his tent—or if he even had one.

“Maybe,” Drute said. “Or perhaps you should speak with Brader.”

I knew my shock showed on my face. “Have you forgotten that Brader followed me to the Games and then tried to get me thrown out?”

“He also stood up for you in front of the Council. I believe he can be reasoned with.”

“Yes, because he’s been so reasonable lately.”

Drute gave me a patient look. “I’m not defending Ashcroft. His pride is wounded, Zara. And before you tear into me,understand that I’m not saying you should accept his marriage proposal to spare his feelings.” Drute lowered his gaze to his tea, and he seemed to collect his thoughts before he spoke again. “I’ve served three alphas now, and I’ve interacted with countless others.” He met my gaze. “Diplomacy is about manipulation as much as it is compromise. You have something Brader wants. If it helps the pack to use that to your advantage, you should at least consider it. You should talk to anyone willing to help you. Your father would have.”

Pain filled my chest. My father’s death was like a bruise that never healed—maybe because I never had time to mourn him properly. It was hard to grieve when I was busy hunting packmates-turned-monsters.

But Drute had a point. I wasn’t just Zara Rockford anymore. I was the alpha. Maybe there was a way to rally Brader to my side. If I made him believe I was interested in becoming Mrs. Ashcroft, he might withdraw his objections to me competing in the Games. Even better, he might do whatever he could to ensure I won.

“This is going to suck,” I muttered.

Drute smiled, displaying white, blocky teeth and blunt fangs. “It’s all part of—” He jerked his head toward the tent’s entrance. A second later, a shuffling sound reached my ears.

I shot to my feet, my hand going to the hilt of the sword I’d strapped to my hip the moment I returned from the clearing. Drute stood with me, and his nostrils flared as he sniffed the air. My wolf roared to the surface. The shift tugged at me as my beast readied to defend us.

“Zara Rockford?” a familiar, lilting voice called through the canvas. “It’s Finn MacAlasdair and Struan MacLure.”

Drute and I looked at each other. Inessa’s warning ran through my head.“If you think banning dragons will keep them away from you, I have vexing news.”

I fixed my gaze on the tent’s opening, which was warded against wind, rain, and intruders. But the dragons were no ordinary immortals. If they wanted inside, I wasn’t sure Drute and I could stop them. And Drute was still mortal. If something happened to him just before he crossed into his home plane, I’d never forgive myself.

“Struan and I came to talk,” Finn said. “And to offer our assistance.”

Assistance? I turned my attention back to Drute, who frowned as he met my stare. Slowly, he shook his head.