Until. I couldn’t shake the fear that it was more a question of if, having learned that none of these wolves knew where another gate was.

“All right,” I said, swallowing. “Thank you.”

“While I was downstairs,” he went on, “we also had a meeting. Sergius, Brucella, and the other prominent members of this pack attended.” He moved to the bed and sat down. I followed, taking a seat next to him. “We discussed what our next step must be. They were in favor of launching an attack on the hunters’ lair immediately. That is only to be expected, because none of them witnessed for themselves the hunters’ beasts and weaponry. I succeeded in swaying them toward a different course of action—rallying all those who are willing to be rallied. We must scour The Woodlands in its entirety and gather together all the tribes that have not yet been eradicated or compromised by the hunters. Those who are still unaware of the hunters’ presence must be warned, and persuaded to join us. Then, once we have gathered together, we must choose somewhere large enough and well hidden enough to base ourselves, and hold a meeting to decide on the best course of attack.”

“But these packs seem to be so disconnected,” I said. “Even if you traveled to each of them and informed them of hunters, would they even believe you? Would they agree to join you?”

“We can only try,” Bastien said, rubbing his temples. “The more packs we manage to accumulate along the way, the easier it will become to gain trust. We do after all share the same land.”

“Do you know why there’s such strife between packs?” I asked. It was something I had been wondering for a long time.

He shrugged. “This was simply the world into which I was born.” He paused, seemingly drifting into his own thoughts, before snapping himself back to reality. “Everyone is preparing to leave now. We plan to depart as soon as possible, in less than an hour.” He stood up, tightening his robe around his waist, even as it draped to reveal his muscled chest. “We have no idea how long we will be traveling so we must take plenty of garments with us,” he went on. “I requested Lavonna to come up to your room in a few minutes to provide you with some. In the meantime I have some preparations of my own to make, and”—his eyes lowered to my ankle—“I should dress that again before we leave.”

Then he stood and, without a backward glance, strode out of the room, leaving me to absorb everything he’d just said.

I wondered how many tribes there were in The Woodlands in total. How long we would need to be traveling. Whether anyone among them would know of another gate.

I stood up and moved to the window, gazing out at the view—beyond the clearing at the base of this mountain was nothing but woods, woods, and more woods, for as far as I could see.

A sudden rapping at the door made me jump. I had barely turned around when the handle creaked and the door pushed open. I expected to see Lavonna standing in the doorway, as Bastien had predicted, but instead there stood Brucella.

I stopped still, gazing at her she entered the apartment and closed the door behind her. She was carrying a bundle of clothes in her hands and a brown woven satchel. She met my eyes only briefly, in a glower, before striding further into the apartment and entering the bedroom where I stood. She planted the items down on the bed briskly before facing me. Her eyes were bloodshot, her face red and puffy, as though she had been crying still. However, when she spoke, her voice was surprisingly steady. “I have come to bring these for you instead of Lavonna,” she explained.

“Oh,” I murmured. “Thanks.”

An awkward pause followed as her eyes roamed me from head to toe.

“Is there, um, anything else?” I asked.

She stepped forward. I instinctively stepped back.

A small, artificial smile crossed her full lips, a smile that was more disconcerting than her glare. “Yes,” she said. “There is something. I would like to ask you a question.”

I flinched as she shot out a hand and laid it on my shoulder. From the steeliness of her gaze, I had half been expecting her to slap me across the face. She closed the distance between us, until our faces were but a few inches apart. Then she breathed, “Is my nephew still a virgin?”

My eyes bulged. “What?” I choked. How would I know that?

Her eyes narrowed, her grip on my shoulder tightening a little. “Don’t play coy with me,” she said, her voice a lot harsher than it had been a second ago.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.” The blood rose to my cheeks.

Her brows knotted. “So you are telling me that you have not soiled him?”

Soiled him?

“No!” I yelped.

Her steely blue eyes dug into me, as if trying to fish for a lie in my irises. I held her gaze, defiant. She would find no guilt in my gaze. That much is for sure…

Finally, her grip slackened on my shoulder and she took a step back.

“Hm,” she murmured, softly. Then her plastic smile reappeared. “Good. Because you should know that he has been betrothed since he was a child to my own daughter, Rona.”

I had to fight to keep my expression from turning to disgust. Bastien is betrothed to his cousin? That would be like me being engaged to Ben or Jeramiah. Ugh.

I cleared my throat. “I assure you, Mrs. Northstone, there is absolutely nothing of that sort going on between Bastien and me. It would be a stretch to even call us friends. We’re just two people thrown together by circumstance. If I could just find a safe gate that would lead me home, I would not even be here.”