Sunspire Mountains he threw me on the needle bed, across my dress he laid

Riley listened to the amazon with a turned ear, skeptic but not entirely disbelieving. He himself had seen Orlaith's once-leader; it had taken him all of two seconds to come to the realization she was nothing but a pompous fuckwit. That impression did, unfairly, extend to the rest of the wolves of her coven -- for if they followed her, they must be like her. Right?

He knew a thing or two about not being appreciated. After a length of quiet, Riley spoke. "I wasn't appreciated either." He hadn't showed his face to the wolves in the redsand since that day Donovan had turned against him in front of the court of their enemies. Riley wasn't Machiavelli, but it didn't take a genius to realize that sort of division made a pack appear weak.

Riley suddenly grinned. "You could join Donovan, show your queen what it's like to work for someone who appreciates you. You're a girl, so he'll probably make you his right hand man -- well, woman -- if you let him fuck you a bit." Riley, who spoke straight and honestly most of the time, had no idea how uncouth and unacceptable this kind of proposition was. He just thought it was funny. All of the other women did it, so he couldn't imagine Orlaith would be against it too.