Being alone with a warg in the midst of a struggle to survive was one thing, but as the silence of the grotto turned deafening, Salix's whole body erupted with swift ripples.

The omnipotent, jarring realization of just how alone she was with him sheathed itself deep in her core.

He was a stranger—one not even human. There was nothing between them except a world of opposites. Most disturbing to her of all, he was male. So utterly, magnetically, preternaturally male.

Salix swallowed, willing her heart to sink back down into her chest. But it persisted in leaping up into her throat every time she tried to swallow.

She was alone with a warg! A creeping heat prickled up her neck and stretched across her cheeks.

Not just any warg. The wargrex she'd obsessed over for years. The very same creature whose likeness in the great Library she'd stared up at since girlhood.

Rath Ironblood.

Yet he'd saved her life. Against all odds, they were alive.

And alone.

Little by little, the light in the tunnel increased, slipping over Rath's granite features. A muted light that gilded his wolfish profile.

Salix found herself staring up at him. She gasped and darted her gaze away when his eyes flicked down to meet hers.

"Do I disturb you in this form?" he asked.

Licking her lips, she regarded him with hooded eyes. She traced the fangs peeking from his muzzle and the thick mane of dark fur framing his long ears and massive shoulders.

"Yes," she answered truthfully, meeting his gaze at last. "But I'm not half as disturbed as I ought to be," she added before she could stop herself.

It was obvious she'd piqued his curiosity, for his whiskers twitched and his brow relaxed a fraction before tightening up again.

Salix half suspected Rath's human form would disturb her more. Beneath the ominous wolf physiognomy looming before her, she detected a devastating handsomeness.

"What do you call this form?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Half fettle," he said.

"Do you ever...?" She dropped her eyes to her lap, cheeks flaming with new heat. She was at a loss how to be politically correct. It went against her nature to circle a question.

"Yes," he replied, sensing what she wanted to ask. "But if I were to shift out of my fur, you'd be far more disturbed."

His words brought a tangle to her brow, echoing her earlier surmise. But she was desperately curious to see his face without the animal distortions of muzzle and fur. Shaking her head, she opened her mouth to assure him that nothing was more disturbing than this half fettle form he persistently inhabited.

"I would be naked, Salix..."

Instantly, her mouth slammed shut. All right, he had her there.

Marking her deep blush, his nose quirked. "Yes, despite loose morals, you humans revile the naked form. You mantle inconstant hearts with damask and rouge."

"You're mistaken, my lord," she insisted, her hands balling in her lap. She'd never worn rouge in her life. Aunt Mitra forbade it!

"My lord?" He gave a snort. "It's too late to go about my lording, you've already worn my name out up on that bridge."

He was right, of course. "That was...extenuating circumstances." She clutched the tip of her braid, fidgeting, trying to ignore the heat of his body pressing all around her as he carried her through the declivitous dark. She sighed, remembering High Lord Kaspian's caveat that excuses tended to vex wargs even more than they did humans. If one wanted to forge peace, one had to lead with humility. "You're right, my lord, I'm, sorry for—"

"It's Rath," he interjected gruffly.

She dropped her braid, venting a long sigh. This maddening habit of his to interrupt and derail her thoughts was becoming...well, maddening. "I regret that my lord wargrex finds our mortal morals loose—"

"Just Rath."

With a tight smile, Salix nodded, continuing on. "I assure you, the High Lord's scruples are above reproach."

"I do not speak of Kaspian Vargas," he said, his tone strangely hollow. "I know well the frail impermanence of human loyalty."

A stifling weight fluttered into her chest as his voice hardened. "Then you don't know us," she said, forgetting diplomacy.

"I lived among humankind long enough to see that you don't know yourselves, least of all your own hearts." Then he turned from her to face the slow bloom of light up ahead. The set of his face forbade further talk.

The silence after his curious and unjust statement was riddled with tension. At first, she found herself incensed and appalled to be so wrongly accused of what sounded like...perfidy. To be lumped in with all the villains of the world. He as good as called her kind faithless. Which meant he found her to be so, too. It was unfair! Instantly defensive, it took her a moment to consider the genesis of his prejudice.

More and more golden light spilled into the tunnel.

Salix peeked up at his rigid face, marking the choleric muscle jerking along the side of his jaw.

Humans were prejudiced against wargs, too. Aunt Mitra had grown up on legends of warg barbarity. She'd inherited her prejudice, having never met a warg herself. Had Rath inherited his prejudice? Or had the seeds been sown by someone he'd once trusted?

She glanced down again, mulling the possibilities over in her head. Despite all the questions reeling inside her, she held her tongue. She didn't have to know much about the male species, let alone warg males, to know when to push and when to leave off. So, instead, she said, "Thank you...Rath."

He glanced down, his sour gaze turning leery. "For what?"

"For saving my life back there. On the bridge." She turned away, avoiding his flickering mirror eyes. "You have my heartfelt gratitude, for whatever that's worth."

His eyes lingered on her hot cheeks, palpable and probing. His silence intimated her gratitude was worth very little.

That was fine, she neither required nor expected anything from him. She'd given her thanks willingly. Despite his prickly demeanor, he'd been magnificent on that bridge. She'd be dead now if not for him.

"I hope I can return the favor one day," she said.

"You wish some mischief upon me?"

Appalled, she swerved her eyes up to his face.

"So that you can rescue me from it, hmm?"

"No! that's not what I..."

He hiked a shadowy brow, a flicker of amusement in the mirrors of his eyes.

She relaxed a touch, noticing the smirk. He was teasing her, giving her whiplash with his changeable humor. The flashing ivories of his fangs were distracting enough without also having to parse the many harrowing shades of his moods.

She pressed her lips into a flat line. "On second thought, maybe a small mischief would do you good..." Her stomach chose that moment to growl, ruining her quip.

Rath's lips twitched but he made no further comment. This time, the silence that followed lacked the tension of earlier. For which, Salix was grateful.

Salix's womb clenched with another cramp. She rolled her eyes, hating the insistent reminder. As if that wasn't discomfort enough, she was thirsty and hot. On cue, a drop of sweat trickled from her brow into her eye.

Confound this heat!

Thankfully, the tunnel was widening, distracting her from the cramps, the oppressive heat of the cave, and her throbbing feet.

They emerged into a cathedral-like chamber, thick with steam. Most astounding of all, she discovered the source of the faint torchlight that'd seeped into the tunnel. It wasn't flame light at all!

Salix's lips parted. "Glow worms!"

As Rath carried her further into the chamber, supported by sturdy stalagmite pillars, she reached out her hand toward one of the pillars.

Thousands of fat, sluggish worms crept along the rock walls and cavern ceiling. Tiny bodies pulsing with ethereal golden light, some of them dangling from glimmering hair-like strands. Coupled with the suspended wisps of mist, the atmosphere was otherworldly. In fact, the mist augmented the light, infusing it with mystery.

She glanced up at Rath as he lowered her feet to the floor.

His mouth was slack, his eyes wide as he, too, seemed to fall under the spell of the cavern.

"It's beautiful," she whispered.

At the sound of her voice, the little lights of the nearest worms guttered out. But only for a moment. Soon their bodies were pulsing once more with soundless music.

Unhurried, she followed Rath deeper into the cavern. Her heart slowed, mesmerized by the low pulse of the cavern glow. It was a moment before she realized the air was thick and heavy here, the steam denser.

She was so busy staring that she missed Rath's sudden halt and slammed into his back with a muffled yelp.

The lights flickered out.

"What is it?" She blinked up at him as the glow slowly returned again.

He glanced down at her, over his shoulder, one ear cocking forward. "We'll make camp here for the night."

She pulled back slightly. "All right."

The mirrors of his eyes flicked down the length of her body to her toes peeking from her hems.

She followed his gaze, grimacing at her blistered feet, crusted in blood.

"The outer dress," he said, "take it off."

She folded her arms tight across her chest, eyes narrowed to slits. "Why?"

"You want a bath, don't you?" Without another word, he continued his march through the steam, ignoring her shock. Like sheer drapes, the steam parted for him.

Frowning, she finally noticed the soft esoteric burble of water echoing in the chamber. Her tongue was swollen and stuck to the roof of her mouth, fever-struck with thirst. "What I need is a drink!"

He gestured for her to follow. "This way."

Slamming her mouth shut, she hurried after him. "I'm not...disrobing." No matter how much she longed for a bath. "It isn't...fitting." A giddy fear raced into her belly.

"You're in the Outland now," he threw over his shoulder, the glint of his eyes dark with humor. "What is fit for the wolf is havoc to the hare."

She carved up his back with a glower. Which he took no notice of because he'd reached the water's edge.

Halting beside him, she regarded the shallow rock pool of eddying water. It was fed by a steaming runnel that sluiced out from gap in the nearby rock. The rock was stained red where the water hemorrhaged steadily forth.

Rath bent to sniff the lively water. He tested the temperature with the tip of one very swift finger. Appearing satisfied, he scooped the water into his cupped palms and began to drink the warm water.

Seeing that it was safe, Salix dropped to her knees beside him and scooped the water into her parched mouth. There was a slight mineral taste to it. Though it was warm, it quenched her like spring rain. When her belly was full, she sat back and wiped her chin.

Rath, having drunk his fill, slid into the water and leaned his head on the back of a rock, lacing his fingers behind him. The shallow water, displaced by his girth, rushed against Salix's knees.

She glanced longingly at the hot water, unsure if she should join him. Propriety aside, her underskirts were soaked in blood.

"Get in." Rath crooked his fingers, apparently sensing her difficulty. "These are healing waters."

"How do you know?"

He tapped his whiskered nose. "It's the same waters that feed Eskaldi's Well." His mouth tugged up at the side, seeing her confusion. "You'll find out soon enough, once we reach Esk."

"If we ever get out of here," she muttered, scooting her legs into the water and then sinking deeper with a sigh. But her delicious relief was short-lived. She blushed, watching the water cloud red around her soaked skirts. She shot him a furtive glance, mortified to see he'd noticed the blood, too.

He shrugged, nodding to where the water flowed out of the pool into a down-sloping channel on the far side, draining away into the dark. "If you're going to stew, at least do it in silence."

She glanced down at her lap. "I never said a word."

"You've the loudest thoughts of anyone I know."

She snorted, relaxing. Which, she guessed, was his intent, clever wolf. She bit the inside of her bottom lip and peeked up through her lashes at him. "The blood" —she swallowed— "it doesn't...bother you?"

His gaze shifted to hers, the yellow of his eyes flickering with animus. "Bother me?" He seemed to taste the word, his lips twisting as though he found it...lacking. "I am half wolf, Salix..." He raised a thick brow pointedly, his glare penetrating. "Blood whets the hunting instinct."

She gave three rapid nods and licked her dry lips.

He leaned back his head, his nostrils flaring as he sighed. "Your heart sounds like a fleeing bird, by the way."

She clutched the pendant hidden beneath her neckline, cursing her reckless tongue. It was a long while before her pulse calmed from a sprint to a stumbling beat. When Rath spoke again, it was so unexpected that her eyes jerked up from where she'd been studying the blood draining away with the eddying current

"They wanted me to throw you in," he said, his claws scraping his chin.

"Pardon me?"

"The orken. They spoke of sparing me if I threw you to the fire. Why?"

Yes, she'd heard that, too. "I don't know. I've never seen an orken until today, let alone quarreled with one."

"Your family history?" He cocked a brow, eyes assessing. "Any misspent strivings against orkenkind?"

"No." She shook her head. "Only the usual defensive...strivings whenever any creature attacks our gate." Here she arched her brow to mirror his supercilious look. "What about you? Surely wargs and orkenkind have a bloody legacy?"

"On the contrary," he said, shrugging a burly shoulder. "Impassive rivals...until today."

She gave a curt nod, too hungry to commit herself fully to unraveling some orken plot. That was a worry for a later time. The most imminent need was a physiological one. The seems of her bladder were threatening to rip. And she would die before she lost all dignity by pissing in the pool like a child. Which, obviously, he would know.

His rumbling voice jerked her out of her brooding. "What's the matter?"

She blinked up at him surprised. "How do you...?"

He tapped his long wolf ears. "I told you, your thoughts are deafening." He dragged his eyes down her body. "And you're fidgeting again."

Sheepish, she unbound her tattered braid, letting the locks spill out around her shoulders. "Am I that easy to read?"

"Yes." The press of his eyes warmed her face. "And that blush hints at something un...fitting."

"I have to...to make water," she whispered delicately, staring at her water-wrinkled fingers.

He chuckled, leaning back. "What a predicament."

She clucked her tongue and gathered her skirts up to climb out of the water. As she stormed away to go find a secluded corner, she was forced to suffer his amused warnings of lurking monsters. "What is fit for the wolf," she mocked irritably, muttering under her breath, "is havoc to the hare."

"Exactly!" he called after her.

Curse his wolf hearing!

With a scowl unbefitting a lady, she marched to the far end of the cavern. As far from him as she dared to go. Not too far, though, for his warning of other lurking monsters had cured her of her earlier boldness.

She hefted her heavy, sodden skirts up around her waist and squatted down, glaring up at a glowing worm dangling from its thread. At first, she was too preoccupied to look past the slimy little worm to the wall behind its lazy undulations. Instead, she squatted in the shadows, shaking her head at Rath's perverse humor.

The wargrex was as changeable as the moon. Would that he was as predictable, too. Instead, he had her twisted into knots.

When she was done, she stood up and dropped her skirts. Stepping closer to the suspended worm, she sighed. The little creature's warm luminance fetched a smile to her lips. She lifted a finger to stroke its gleaming flesh, but as soon as she touched the cold clammy worm, its light snuffed out.

No longer distracted by it, her lashes fluttered and she stepped back. It was then she finally noticed the wall beyond. More importantly, what was on the wall, illuminated by the guardian glow of the watchful worms.

Which day do you prefer for updates, my lovelies? I'm going to start uploading chapters to Wattpad in advance for scheduled releases so that I can be more consistent and you can have more confidence in me.