Wolfsbane by Andrea Cremer Page A

us without hesitation,” Connor said.
    Working past the dryness in my throat, I said,
    “Something’s changed.”
    “What?” Connor looked at me sharply.
    “One of the wolves that attacked us was a Nightshade,” I continued. “Not one of my own pack, but an elder. And she was being led by the Banes.”
    “Are you sure?” Anika’s eyes had narrowed.
    “I am,” I said, forcing my own voice to remain steady. “The wolf that kil ed Lydia was Emile Laroche.”
    “What did you just say?” Monroe was standing in the doorway, Shay at his side.
    Adne was already crossing the room. She put her head on Monroe’s chest.
    “We lost Lydia,” Connor said, watching as Monroe put his arms around his daughter. It was the first time I’d seen them behave like parent and child.
    “And it was Emile?” Monroe asked, running his hand over Adne’s hair. “The Bane alpha?”
    “Yes,” I said.
    The group of Searchers near Anika had closed in around her in a tight circle, hurried words in low tones passing between them.
    Shay started toward me and I walked to meet him.
    I didn’t hesitate when he stretched his arms out. My head was spinning. Things had happened in Vail.
    Things I couldn’t understand. I leaned into him, letting his scent pour over me, steadying me.
    “Are you okay?” he whispered.
    “I’m not hurt.” I kept my voice low. “But things happened.”
    His arms tightened around me. “What things?”
    “Not here,” I murmured.
    He kissed the crown of my hair.
    Monroe looked at us, face grim. “We’l need to discuss this with Silas.”
    Anika nodded. “He should be in his study.”
    Adne had already pul ed out of her father’s embrace, wiping away tear tracks from her cheeks.
    “I’l come with you.”
    “You should get some rest.”
    “No.” Any vulnerability had vanished, replaced by her usual rebel ious expression.
    “Then I’l come too,” Connor said. He was watching Adne. I saw questions flickering through his eyes, anxious.
    I wondered why he was being so protective. Adne struck me as nothing less than ferocious, and she was holding up remarkably wel considering . . . oh.
    Connor’s scrutiny suddenly made sense.
    That had been Adne’s first mission as the new Weaver, her first time out with the Haldis team, and they’d lost two people. Was she real y taking it in stride like the other Searchers, or was it just for show until she was alone?
    “This way,” Monroe said, though he frowned at Adne before leading us from the room.
    Rather than turning down the hal , he pushed through the glass doors. The air in the courtyard was frigid, but Monroe didn’t show any reaction as he strode on the walkway. I glanced down at the barren earth. I could see twisting paths and empty fountains far below us. No one spoke as we walked. Our breath fil ed the air with tiny white clouds. The courtyard was massive. We’d walked half a mile by the time Monroe opened the doors on the opposite side of the Academy.
    While the architecture of the hal way we entered mirrored that of the Haldis wing, its design was startlingly different. Haldis—from the wal s to the dark woods of the tactical room—was fil ed with warm, rich ochres, crimsons, mahoganies.
    The space we’d entered glittered as though it had been carved of ice. Frosty blue, lavender, silver, and gleaming white washed over the wal s. The colors swirled and rippled, accompanied by a quiet rustling like the softness of a steady breeze.
    “Where are we?” I asked. The constant shifting of colors on the wal s made it seem like the building around us was moving.
    “This is the Tordis wing.” Monroe glanced over his shoulder. I realized he was stil walking and I’d fal en behind the group. As stunning as this space was, the Searchers—and even Shay—must have seen it before. They didn’t seem to notice its beauty, or if they did, they weren’t moved enough to comment.
    “How many wings are there?”
    “Four,” Monroe said as I caught up to