Free Treachery by Andrea Cremer Page A

thrill of the night racing through my veins has grown cold.
    The chorus of howls falters. Intermittent snarls and low growls begin to filter through.
    The Keepers, who’ve been standing apart, silent and watchful, begin to move. Efron Bane, standing with Logan and Lumine, suddenly shouts:
    “Emile! To me.”
    I watch the burly Bane alpha lope to his master’s side. I can’t hear what Efron says, but a moment later Emile is racing into the forest with five elder Banes at his heels.
    A large, dark shape shoulders into me. My father doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the tension in his body. The way he’s standing is defensive, as if he expects an attack at any moment.
    My hackles raise, but I force myself to stay still.
    Bryn creeps across the circle, standing close to me but careful not to touch me. There are too many watchful eyes here. What if she’s hurt?
    What could hurt Calla? I ask, but my stomach is knotted.
    The other young wolves begin to cluster and I notice that we’ve split into our former groups. Sabine, Dax, Ren, and Nev huddle together. Mason and Fey appear at Bryn’s flank.
    New howls echo in the woods and I jump. The Banes’ call is alarmed and furious.
    Stay close, my father says as a low growl rumbles in his chest.
    My mother comes to his side, pressing her muzzle against his.
    I wish I knew what she was saying to him.
    Emile bursts from the trees, shifting form as he reaches Efron. He keeps his voice low, but I watch the Keeper’s face contort with outrage. Efron points at us and Emile grins. He’s a wolf again, barreling toward my parents.
    My father jumps in front of my mother and Emile stops just short of him. His teeth are bared and drool slips from his jaws.
    What do we do? Bryn is trembling beside me. What’s happening?
    I don’t know. My hackles are raised, but we can’t attack a Bane alpha. Can we?
    As my father and Emile stare at each other, fur bristling and muscles quivering with rage, Lumine and Efron move together, closing the space that had separated the Keepers from the wolves.
    Lumine passes Emile without a glance. Her eyes are cold as they pass over my mother to rest on my father.
    “This will be much more pleasant if you stand down, Stephen,” she says. I can’t detect anything amiss in her calm voice.
    Keeping his eyes on Lumine, my father shifts form.
    “Mistress, please.” He bows his head. “What’s happening? Where’s my daughter?”
    Lumine stiffens, but Efron smiles.
    “That is something we’d all like to know, ” he says. He flicks his wrist and Emile lunges forward, knocking my still-human father to the ground.
     
     
    The squeal of the cell door opening woke me. I cemented my jaw shut, forcing myself to swallow the sob at the back of my throat.
    I knew what I’d see next: the slithering movement of a wraith. The Keepers sent them in at least twice a day.
    But today—whatever day that was—something different came through the door. Something worse.
    I recognized him immediately. The dark fur and smoky eyes. The confidence in his stride.
    Ren. In wolf form.
    It was the first time I’d seen him since the Chamber. Since my mother’s throat had been torn out. And then they’d taken Ren . . . and given him to wraiths. That was something we’d shared. Torment by the Keepers’ shadow pets.
    Looking at Ren now, it was clear that we no longer had that in common. In this cell, I was a husk of what I’d been. My body was barely covered by tattered scraps of formal wear, but my skin was marbled by indigo, sickly green, and gray-blue bruising. I was caked in my own filth.
    Ren was none of these things. He looked ... well.
    And he was a wolf.
    Rolling onto my back, I pushed myself against the wall until I was sitting up as much as I possibly could. Some of my muscles refused to fully stretch out anymore.
    I wanted to glare at him, to show him how much I hated him, but I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at a wolf without falling apart, and the