Mated to the Warg (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

Not for Self

The hand of your daughter. His words echoed in the silent hall.

Dread pooled in her mouth.

Elgret quickly regained her composure to state the obvious. "But my daughter is already married, Thrax. Name another price."

"You said anything, Lady. Your word holds little water as it is. Do not insult or disappoint me again."

Elgret's mouth tightened. When those steely grey eyes found hers, Rowan felt her gut curdle with debilitating fear. She could see the cogs already working in her mother's head—and they weren't working in Rowan's favor. "As you wish," she finally said.

"No!" Rowan spun around to face Merritt, grabbing him by his silk doublet with a force that made him teeter. "Merritt, no!" Terrorr coiled like a snake around her heart. "We're married!"

"Not anymore." Elgret's voice was cold steel. Her mother's armor was back in place now and her voice sharp enough to pierce iron. "This marriage is henceforth annulled."

Just like that.

Merritt's hands covered Rowan's, the warmth of them doing nothing to banish the ice from her bones. He addressed his High Lady, his voice steadier than his feet. "My lady, you cannot do this. My family—"

"You will find that I can, Lord Marwort."

Merritt faced the other woman sitting at the dais. "Mother! Say something!"

Lady Marwort was openly glaring at Egret, but the High Lady's hand sliced through the air like an executioner's ax. Lady Marwort was struck silent by the gesture.

The wargrex was watching Merritt with a sharp grin that chilled Rowan to the marrow. Instinctively, she stepped away from her groom, not knowing why exactly. Perhaps to preserve his life?

"The High Priestess already said the vows!" The wine fog was clearing from Merritt's eyes. "This is...this is...barbarous!"

This time, It was the wargrex who answered him. "What care have I for the words of mortals. Words only. I answer to a higher law."

Merritt gaped at him. "What higher law takes a man's wife from him on his wedding night?"

"The law of gods not men!" The wargrex's eyes brightened with violence.

Merritt balked at him and swivled around to face the High Lady. "You...you forget, my uncle has the ear of the king!"

"I'm well aware, Lord Marwort," Elgret bit out. But there was a flicker of uncertainty in her glare.

"Then you're aware that Rowan is not yours to barter away. Not anymore! She's my wife!"

"What I am aware of is that I have the king's other ear. It is I who guard his western gate—I keep Wrais safe, not your uncle!"

"You're making a mistake, my lady."

Elgret's eyes flared with wrath. "Are you threatening me, boy?"

Merritt swallowed and glanced at his mother, then at Thrax. "I'm only stating—"

"Be careful how you state your answer," said Elgret, "for I may see it as an act of treason."

Rowan's throat constricted as the High Lady gestured to the wargrex. Thrax's jaw was flaring with menace.

"I will not protect you," said Elgret, "nor aid you if you go against the wargrex."

Merritt retreated into brooding silence, his gaze dropping. His face was red and his lean body was trembling with ire.