Sunbeam Lair Heaven and Hell

The… group of leaders? But it made more sense on explanation: those who would snap at the slightest provocation, who had no tolerance for dissent. Finley wouldn’t have considered such wolves leaders in the first place, on principle. Wolves like that sought only to fuel their egos, wayward pups who teethed on their so-called packmates.

“I’ll rip you apart like I did the last girl stupid enough to disrespect me.”

Finley held her tongue.

Donovan bounded forward, snapping her, quite literally, out of her trance. On instinct Finley dropped to a defensive crouch. But his sopping shoulder hit empty air and off he was, running deeper into the cave with that curled tail high. Like a pup. Like Derg.

The Grandmaster wanted to play, deep in an unknown cave, when—unless a way out could be found ahead—such energy was better reserved for the swim back. On the way to the Gorge, Finley had caved to the clearing of the air. But there was no such need here, far as she was concerned.

If Donovan wanted honesty… well, better offered now when he’d gallivanted away; if he turned on her from this distance, she had an advantage. Though she followed briskly, just enough to show she hadn’t given up, Finley was in no rush. “What’s the point of this?” she called out. “Trying to map the caverns?” An awfully late start if so, considering his labyrinthian path in.