Keeper of the Wolves (22 page)

“
Thank you,” I whispered
conspiratorially.

The color ran from her face at being
addressed, but she swallowed and whispered back, “You’re welcome,
Ambassador Tramarius.”

I smiled at her and she bobbed a quick
curtsey before I turned away. Koya was no longer at our table. I
found her with a group of girls at the far end of the ballroom.
Lady Verian smiled at me and tipped her head to indicate that I
should join them, but I pretended not to notice the invitation. She
whispered to a girl with striking red hair. They both looked at me
and giggled in a high pitch that hurt my ears. I didn’t know
whether to feel flattered or dismayed; both reactions confused me.
I turned away in time to see Lord Brayton make his way across the
ballroom toward the group.

The Lord bowed and all of the girls in the
group simpered like a flock of peafowl. The bright colors of their
dresses and hairpieces perfected the analogy. I couldn’t help but
smile at the reminder that in the wild usually the male tried to
impress the female with his dashing looks and charm. In society, on
the other hand, it seemed females wore anything they could to catch
a male’s attention.

One lady fanned herself with an object made
of peacock feathers, an irony that almost made me lose my composure
and laugh out loud. Another woman wore a headdress of brightly
painted wooden scales that made it look as if she bore a rainbow on
her head. The blonde-haired female next to Koya sported gloves of
bright pink material that caught the light whenever she moved her
hands, which was quite often, attesting to the fact that she knew
of the distraction she caused.

To my dismay, Lord Brayton spoke quietly,
then bowed and held out a hand to Koya. A fist grabbed my heart
when her hand slid into his and he led her to the ballroom floor. I
couldn’t take my eyes off of them as Koya spun across the room with
the grace of a dandelion frond floating along on a meadow breeze.
Her light yellow dress added to the effect, and when her hand
touched Lord Brayton’s, I couldn’t help but notice the matching
yellow rose in the breast pocket of his white suit.

My heart burned. I reminded myself that she
needed a suitor who would care for her, not an oaf like Lord Vesut.
Lord Brayton had shown only the most proper of attention, and his
smile was genuine, not filled with greed or want. He truly saw her
as a friend, if not more.

A growl tore from my throat. I turned to
find two servants staring at me. I flashed my teeth in a quick
snarl before I could help myself. They disappeared through a door
hidden among the colorful tapestries that lined the wall. Regret
touched my thoughts and doubled when the dance ended. I watched
with a heavy heart as an unknown gentleman in a bright blue suit
asked for her next dance, followed by Lord Brayton again. As the
dance ended, her light laugh colored the air.

I turned away, worried I would take down
Lord Brayton as I had Vesut. The wolf side of me demanded a chance
to claim her as my own, to fight for her and show that I found her
worth dying for, and worth living for. The human side of me argued
that such a reaction was brash and I would be forced to leave
again. I couldn’t stand being across the ballroom from her. My
limbs twitched as the wolf struggled to break free. Spending part
of the day human as well as the night was truly testing my
control.

“
Vielkeep knows how to serve
refreshments.”

It took every ounce of strength I had not to
change into wolf form and attack Lord Brayton. I clenched my hands
at my sides and turned slowly, afraid to give my instincts any
reign. The Lord met my cautious look with curiosity. “Lady Koya
mentioned that you might take our dancing together in the wrong
light.” A slight smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Such an
admission leads one to believe there might be feelings that border
on affection.”

I took a breath to calm my pounding heart.
As of yet, he hadn’t said anything to offend me, but Rasmus had
warned that in society words had double meanings. I tried to make
sense of any insinuations as I watched him carefully.

His brows pulled together and his head
tipped slightly forward. “Ambassador Victus, let me assure you that
my intentions toward Koya only pertain to friendship. I have no
wish to court her.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved on my
own behalf, or to feel disappointment for Koya. Lord Brayton was
the only one who had treated her as an actual person, not as some
prize or property to be won. At my continued silence, the Lord
lowered his voice. “I’ve seen the way you look at her,” he said
quietly for only my ears. “I just didn’t want you to second-guess
my purpose.”

I held his gaze. “What is your purpose?” I
asked evenly.

His eyes widened slightly. It was the only
sign of surprise he gave to my reply. “To ensure that she doesn’t
settle for a power-grasping mongrel like Vesut.” I gritted my teeth
at his name and Lord Brayton nodded. “I see you agree.” He glanced
around. “Would you prefer to talk outdoors away from our stuffy
company?”

I looked up to see several ladies watching
us. I couldn’t tell if it was Brayton or I who held their
attention, but they were uncomfortably close for my liking. I
searched for Koya. She was chatting amiably with the rotund couple
from Sunhold. Joven stood with her, a lady in dark green with black
feathers in her hair at his elbow.

“
Rasmus has his eye on Lady
Vielslayer,” Brayton said in answer to my unspoken
concern.

My eyes drifted around the room and I found
the General leaning against a column nearby, his eyes never resting
as he studied the crowd ringing the brother and sister.

I nodded and Brayton tipped his head in
something closer to a bow. “I appreciate your time,” he said.

I followed him outside. My wolf instincts
kept me from turning my back on someone whose measure I couldn’t
quite take. He spoke casually, but his step was that of a warrior,
careful and ready despite his calm demeanor. A sliver of silver
flashed in the candlelight of the hallway and a closer look
revealed a knife hidden beneath his jerkin. I felt a grudging
respect for someone who didn’t let his guard down completely.

The night air carried the promise of winter
in the chilling breeze that wrapped around our ankles and grasped
at our hands. I welcomed the scent of evergreens and loam it
carried from beyond the wall. An answering chill ran up my arms,
not from the cold, but from the wolf who ached to be free of the
human confines. I clenched my jaw against the pressing need to
change. I was testing my luck; I didn’t have much time before it
was beyond my control.

We walked in silence across the short
trimmed grass to a grove of trees with benches interspersed.
Several were occupied by ballroom attendants who sought them out
either for a more private conversation such as was our objective,
or for courting of a type more intimate than was appropriate in the
well-lit ballroom.

We skirted several such couples and made our
way through the copse to the far wall. Lord Brayton studied the
gray bricks for several minutes. When he turned back to me, his
gaze was stormy and troubled. An overpowering scent of frustration
wafted from him. “You can’t let her go with Vesut.”

I studied him, uncertain as to the source of
his anger. “I can’t decide for her.”

“
You care about her, don’t
you?”

I opened my mouth to answer, then reminded
myself that I owed him nothing. I took another breath of the night
air and clenched my hands against the need to run beneath the trees
with the wind in my fur.

At my silence, his anger intensified. “If
you care about her at all, you won’t let her go with him.”

“
I can’t,” I blurted out
before I could stop myself.

His eyes searched mine with a directness
that took me aback. “What is it? Money? Land? I can give you both.
You could take her away from all of this.”

I shook my head and a knot formed in my
throat at the real reason.

“
Dang it, man,” he shouted.
“Don’t you see what he would do with her? She is nothing to him, a
prize to be flaunted and then thrown away.”

I bared my teeth at the frustration in his
voice. It was all I could do to hold still and keep from attacking
him. The animal inside of me, the animal that was me, I reminded
myself, wanted to show him he couldn’t intimidate or threaten me.
His words were about Koya, but his stance, the way his fists
clenched and unclenched, and the unconscious steps he took in my
direction as he spoke said that he wanted to attack someone as much
as I did. But the look in his eyes wasn’t directed at me.

“
He’ll throw her away when
he’s through with her,” he repeated. His gaze shifted from me to
the wall. Dark things flitted past his eyes, haunted visions that
made his jaw clench and brows lower. Then something caught my
searching gaze, a glimmer of light along the bottom rim of his
eyes. He was crying.

I took a step back in surprise. He jerked
his face toward me again and the tears broke free. I had never seen
a man cry. He dashed them from his cheeks, then stared at the
moisture on his fingertips as if shocked to see it there. He put a
hand to his eyes and squeezed them tightly. His fist hit weakly
against the wall. “You must think I’m insane,” he said.

But I didn’t. I knew the look in his gaze
and the lost, hollow expression on his face. I had seen the same
countenance only once. My chest tightened in compassion. The look
had been on the face of a wolf who had just lost her mate to the
impaling horns of an elk. Her golden eyes had clouded in the same
fashion, her gaze lost as if the stars had vanished from the sky.
She wasn’t the same after losing him, and in wolf fashion chose to
live the rest of her life alone. She was a creature misplaced, her
eyes always searching the edges of meadows and elusive shadows for
her fallen mate.

Brayton mourned the loss of someone so dear
her absence had etched itself in the lines of his face and the
shadows of his eyes.

“
What happened to her?” I
asked softly.

He closed his eyes as more tears leaked
free. He leaned his head against the rough bricks; his palms rested
on the stones as if they were the only real things in the world. “I
loved her,” he said in a tight voice. “I loved her and he sent her
away.”

Brayton fell silent. His words pressed
around me, echoing the fear in my heart that I would lose Koya and
ache the way he did. But there was more to his story. Agony flooded
from him in a sharp wave of bitter sadness. The scent filled my
nose and I tried to breathe it away, but I was too close to him for
the evening breeze to chase his mourning from the air. “To someone
who didn’t love her,” I guessed quietly.

Self-loathing flooded his face and the words
poured out of him in a rush as if they had been fighting to get
free. “She was a scullery maid in the kitchens, working off her
family’s debt when they were unable to pay my father’s taxes.” He
swallowed and shook his head. “Abilene’s feet barely touched the
ground. She moved with such grace even watching her walk was like
viewing a delicate dance. And her voice,” his words caught in his
throat and starlight reflected in fresh tears that filled his eyes
but refused to fall. He swallowed again. “When she sang, every
servant in the castle filled the kitchens. I fell in love with her
voice before I even saw her.”

He glanced at me and a slight, sad smile
touched his eyes. “It was her voice I followed to the kitchens the
first night I saw her. A sound so sweet my heart was hers before I
even saw the way her black hair brought out the deep mossy green of
her eyes, or how her fingers could braid grass into the most
delicate of wreaths for the servants’ children even after hours of
washing dishes.”

He fell silent and I knew not to press him.
The look in his eyes had changed from the haunted, hollow depths to
something lighter and almost happy. I let him have his moment,
certain he experienced few memories so fond.

He swallowed and stared hard at the wall as
though attempting to see through it. “My father found out about our
love, for she loved me dearly in return. He was furious that I
allowed someone of such low birth to capture my attentions.” His
eyes tightened. “So he sent her away to the butcher’s son in
Faslow, the town below Miduan Capitol. When I found out, I nearly
rode my father’s prize steed to death to reach her, but when I
arrived they had already wed following strict instructions from the
Duke.” He spit out the title as though it tasted foul. He grimaced.
“The butcher’s son was a slovenly cur, and I knew he hurt her.”

He glanced at me and there was murder in his
eyes. “I caught him out on the road alone one night and beat him to
within an inch of his life, then threatened him with more if he
hurt her again.” His fists clenched. “She disappeared a fortnight
later. The butcher’s son said she fell ill, but he couldn’t
remember where her grave was, only that they had buried her on a
hillside overlooking the valley.” Fire burned in his eyes when he
concluded softly, “I suspect that my father had something to do
with that as well.”

I could only stare at him. The heartache in
his voice was echoed in his eyes. The carefree, happy gentleman who
flirted with the ladies and danced as if he didn’t have a worry in
the world stood before me a broken man. The helpless anger that
washed from him in peppery waves was tempered with the lavender and
winter wind scent of loneliness. Here was someone who had
everything and lost it in a single moment.

He turned back to me and the fire in his
eyes danced with righteous fury when he grabbed my shoulders. The
wolf side of me bared its teeth, screaming for me to retaliate
against the infringement of my space, but I fought to keep it down.
“You’ve got to take care of her,” he said, his voice tight. “You’ve
got to protect her from those who would hurt her. I’ve seen the
look in Koya’s eyes. She loves you as much as you love her. Protect
her at all costs. Take her away from all of this.”