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

Thesta

The longhouse Rowan was taken to must've been the one furthest in the sky. A cascade of moonflower vines was hanging down from the roof like curtains. But she was too out of breath to enjoy the fragrance after the punishing climb she'd just endured.

Her legs were about to buckle under the weight of a crippling exhaustion. Instead of sympathy, though, she was getting disparaging looks. Thrax shook his head while they waited for his knock on the door to be answered.

She, meanwhile, stood panting under the eave. He could shake his head at her all he wanted, he wasn't the one dying here. "I'm not used to such exertion," she said, wheezing.

"It's called exercise. Best you get use to it," he snapped. Then, "I don't see your maid complaining."

Indeed, Meera looked no worse for the wear. In fact, the exercise had brightened her eyes and brought color to her cheeks. Meera gave a sympathetic shrug.

"Don't you have stairs in your castle?" he asked in a scathing tone.

He knew very well Black Bridge Castle had staircases. A lot of them. But she'd never been marched up steep stairs like a godsdamned soldier, and that after a sleepless night. Her legs felt like raw meat and she was tired of being barked at! Rowan muttered a miserable retort under her breath as the door opened.

A tall warga with blond braids wrapped around her head stepped out. A broad smile lit her face. She exclaimed something in wargish and kissed Thrax on the mouth before hugging him hello. It wasn't a romantic kiss, but the act so surprised Rowan because anyone brave enough to kiss that surly mouth deserved her curiosity. Following the direction of Thrax's angry gaze, the warga stepped away. Her smile turned appraising as she eyed the two women standing beside him, her nostrils flexing. She barked a laugh suddenly, her eyes darting between Thrax and Rowan in some sort of understanding. "Vot?" she exclaimed. Then, "Twerfoot...blah blah blah...Warrow...blah blah blah." She was speaking too rapidly for Rowan to catch every word—not that she understood the ones she did catch. "Er kani? Vo snem?"

"Ja." Thrax answered with a grim nod, plucking a stray feather from the warga's hair. Then he switched to Wrasian, nodding from Rowan to Meera as he introduced them. "And this," he said, gesturing to the warga, "is my sister, Thesta.

"Nu vo skat," said Thesta, studying Rowan with a keen look and a half smile.

Rowan bristled. "What's she saying?"

But Thrax shifted in what seemed like discomfort and wouldn't answer.

Thesta chuckled. "I said you're very pretty."

"Oh." Heat pooled into Rowan's face. "Um, thank you."

"You left for Warrow," the warga said, turning to her brother. "I didn't expect you to claim your human mate so soon. I thought you were going to wait a few years more." Her eyes shifted between the two women before settling back on Rowan.

"I hadn't planned on going to West Gate," Thrax muttered, scowling at Rowan. "But the girl went and got herself wed."

"Ahh." Thesta nodded. They were now both staring at her with sharp looks.

Rowan stiffened. "She didn't know it was any of your business what she did. And stop looking at me as though I'm a sow you've just purchased."

Thrax's eyes flicked skyward as his jaw clenched.

His sister chuckled, "forgive me, I'm just surprised."

"Excuse her prickly tongue," said Thrax. "She took a piss in a golrag den and managed to get nettles up her arse after all."

Rowan folded her arms. "If you wanted someone docile, wargrex, you should have snatched yourself another...mate." Gods, that word was infuriating.