Radley frowned and though he didn’t truly want to be there, she could tell her words were giving her pause. “You’d make a good wolf,” he said suddenly, as if it had just dawned on him.
She perked up. “I would?”
Nodding slowly, he looked away from her to focus on the twinkling stars above them. Too many people didn’t look at the stars once they grew up. The fact they both still looked said a lot about them. “In the clans, if a female wants to lead, wants to do right by her people, she can. There’s no one telling her who she can marry and when she must. There are arranged matings sometimes, sure, but they’re never forced. At any time, either party can deny the arrangement. Being forced leads to many things like untapped potential, abuse, depression. It’s best to avoid those.”
Smiling, Cricket moved just a little closer to the wolf beside her. “It sounds like ambrosia,” she said, but then her smile fell. “But unfortunately, I was born with wings into a family steeped in tradition. It’s a nice thought, that I could be a wolf, but it’s simply not possible. There’s no magic powerful enough for that.” Cricket stood from her spot and stretched. “You better get your rest. The Council is doing things different this race after the outcry when the Vamps won. They’re hosting an introduction party in addition to the ball, to make sure extra teams can’t be added into the roster last minute. They’ll be announcing all the racers at it.”
“Ah, the big reveal.” Radley shook his head. “What should we expect?”
“Drama the likes you’ve never seen.” She shrugged. “A Snapdragon female doesn’t race. She sits like a pretty ornament and doesn’t speak.” Her words are matter-of-fact, but they still make her sad. Hopefully, winning the race would do what she intended. Hopefully, it didn’t make her father put her in a smaller cage. “I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll practice for a few hours before we have to fly out for the party.”
She turned to leave but Radley stopped her with a gruff, “Cricket?”
Turning back toward him, she studied the wolf where he sat. With the moon reflecting into the pond and across his face, she could admire his rough beauty, the way he simply felt wild with every breath. “Yes?”
“Don’t ever lose your voice. As much as you annoy me sometimes, I couldn’t imagine you muzzled.”
Cricket blinked at his words before she slightly inclined her head to him. “I’ll keep that in mind, wolf.”
Once she slipped inside, she could admit to herself she might be in trouble. When the wolf wasn’t being an asshole, he was a good man.
And good men were the ones you wanted on your side when you marched into war.