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Authors: Karen Whiddon

The Wolf Prince (10 page)

BOOK: The Wolf Prince
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But this he could control. He had an iron grip on his natural urges. Too bad the same couldn’t be said for his wolf.

He’d let the animal part of himself have too much control for far too long. Therein lay grief and madness. The battle now, after the fact, felt futile. But he refused to admit defeat yet.

Willow provided a welcome distraction. Ruben didn’t understand why, but the beast wanted this woman with a ferocity that defied all logic.

“Are you agreeable to us being a team?” she asked, watching him earnestly. “If so, we could get started immediately.”

Slowly, he nodded, reaching a decision without giving it much thought. “Sure.”

“Great.” She took his hand, pulling him toward the door. “Then let’s get out of here before someone comes looking for us.”

Ignoring the shock her sudden touch sent through him, he let her lead the way. When they slipped through the kitchen and out of the castle through a back door, he was surprised. She headed into the wilderness rather than a road into town.

“Where are we going?”

“To get some answers,” she said, smiling. “Since you are part wolf, you should feel at home here. Give it a minute and I think you’ll understand.

They’d only gone a short distance when he heard a sound. The slightest of noises, but enough. Instantly, his wolf came alert. He sniffed the air, catching a scent. Then one more; no, two. More than that. There were others here, wolves. A wild pack, stalking them. Ruben glanced at Willow, who heedlessly continued crashing through the woods, the leaves rustling under her feet as loud as bells. Apparently unaware of the danger, she showed no fear.

He opened his mouth to warn her and heard a growl. His inner wolf responded in kind. He froze, the hair on his body standing on end as though electrified. Ahead, three large wolves stood, blocking their way.

Hellhounds. Always ready for a good fight, the wolf inside him struggled to be free. He knew if it came to a battle, he and Willow stood a much better chance if he let his beast loose. Shifters’ wolves were easily twice as large as these animals, and much more ferocious. The aftermath would be brutal and bloody.

Wanting to avoid this at all costs, he kept his inner wolf at bay. After all, he’d never known a wild wolf to attack unprovoked, unless starving. A quick glance at these animals revealed they were well fed, with the glossy pelts of healthy beasts.

Unless he and Willow had inadvertently wandered onto their territory, the wolves had no reason to attack.

As he struggled with his inner beast, trying to formulate some sort of plan, Willow stepped forward. She moved with confidence and didn’t appear to be afraid. She’d crossed half the distance separating them, dropped to her haunches and held out her arms, crooning in the wordless language one might use to an infant or a new puppy.

Had she lost her freaking mind? Disbelieving, he watched as the wild animals moved toward her, all trace of animosity gone from their demeanor. Like beloved pets, they rubbed up against her, allowing her to place her hands on them. She caressed their fur, still crooning, and their blissful reaction to her touch sent a nameless, wild ache through Ruben. This shook him to his core.

These animals, his Feral cousins, accepted Willow as if she was one of them, a pack-mate.

And she claimed she had no magic?

Looking up, she saw him watching and threw back her head in laughter. The sound, so full of joy and life, sent another kind of ache into his core.

“Come, meet my friends,” she said, still smiling as she held out a hand for him.

But when he took a step toward her, the wild wolves’ playful attitudes vanished. They formed a loose circle around Willow, letting Ruben know by their stiff stance and bared teeth that he wasn’t welcome.

Another glance at Willow showed this puzzled her.

“They protect you,” he said, the comment unnecessary, though he felt he had to say it. She looked from him to the wolves, her brow furrowed in puzzlement.

“I know,” she said, her tone musing rather than worried. “Though our communications are only rudimentary, I can’t seem to make them understand that you are not a threat.”

That said, she rose to her feet in one fluid motion. Moving quickly across the few feet that separated them, when she reached Ruben, she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled close.

Then, once his heart started beating again, she began caressing him all over, much the same way as she had done with the wild wolves.

“I am attempting to show them,” she murmured, her voice a throaty tickle against his ear. “By putting my scent on you, I’m letting them know you’re part of me.”

Despite himself, his body instantly responded. Desire flared, hitting so hard he quivered. Acting of their own accord, his arms came up and he let his hands explore her lush curves.

She gasped, thrusting herself against him as though shocked. This telling movement, however small, had his already aroused body strained nearly to breaking.

His wolf had gone quiet. Ruben barely noticed, so turned on he could scarcely think. He wanted to bury himself inside her, take her right there on the bed of dried leaves, with the wild wolf pack as his witness.

Inflamed, he nuzzled her, stroking her soft skin, lingering over the curve of her generous breasts. She pushed herself into him, groaning as his hand cupped her perfect behind.

When his mouth found hers, already drowning in sensation, the first crush of her lips against his sent a jolt of smoldering heat through him.

Reveling in the feeling as their tongues danced and mated, he realized he was dangerously close to losing control. He gasped, raised his head, struggling with his wolf, his desire, and most of all, with himself.

This was wrong. He couldn’t let this happen.

As he saw the same awareness and realization flood her face, he realized the wolves had left them. Once again, he and Willow were alone.

Turning away, he desperately tried to think of something else, anything else, to dissipate his erection. He remembered his mother’s horrible scream and the maid’s lifeless body and his quest to find the killer. That did it.

When he could breathe again and speak normally, he turned to face her. She looked a bit tousled, though her serene expression told him she’s also managed to put the incident from her.

“What just happened?” he asked, gesturing toward the spot where the wolf pack had been.

Willow flushed, proving her serenity was only an act. “I think we kissed.”

“Yes, I know we did.” Reaching out, he squeezed her shoulder, hoping she found his touch reassuring. He refused to analyze why he still felt the need to keep touching her. “I meant the wolves. I take it you managed to convince them that I was no threat?”

“Oh.” Apparently at a loss for words, she squinted into the woods, gaze searching the shadows. “They left. They could sense your inner wolf. I think they thought you were staking a claim.” Her blush deepened.

Staking a claim? Momentarily distracted, he found his gaze drawn to her mouth. Completely unintentional, but maybe he had, in a way. His inner wolf continued to prowl, somewhat mollified but not completely satisfied.

Ruben didn’t like it. He’d kissed her but the beast wanted more. Much more. At least he still had enough control over that part of himself to make sure human overruled beast.

Forcing his attention away from her soft, kissable mouth to the forest, he managed a savage smile. “What were the wolves doing here in the first place?”

“Um....” Her chocolate eyes widened. “I guess I should have told you earlier. All the animals, whether here in the forest, or in town, seek me out. For some reason, I’m able to communicate with them in a rudimentary way.”

Fascinated, he eyed her. “Are you serious?”

Slowly she nodded.

“Is that one of your magical abilities?”

“There’s nothing magical about that,” she said. “Is there?”

“Talking to animals seems pretty darn magical to me. Hellhounds, I’m a Shape-shifter and I even can’t communicate much with wild wolves. What do your parents think?”

She looked down. “I haven’t exactly told them.”

He couldn’t believe she didn’t realize the magnitude of her ability, if it was true. “Why not? Surely they’d be proud of you.”

“I don’t think so.” Crossing her arms, she shook her head and began walking, indicating the conversation was over. At least as far as she was concerned. He made a mental note to try and discuss it later.

For the next hour, they trudged southeast, sticking to uncultivated forest and eschewing anything that even remotely resembled a path or road. During that journey, Ruben witnessed the phenomena with Willow and the animals again and again. Deer and elk, rabbits and squirrels, hedgehogs and beavers—species didn’t matter—they all came to greet her. Those that hunted and those who were prey, they came without regard for the danger.

With each and every one, she crouched low, petted and caressed, and appeared to confer softly and silently.

Keeping his distance, Ruben watched her, listening closely, trying to figure out if he had missed some little nuance, some trick. But he saw nothing other than the obvious—the animals came to Willow and she clearly adored them. It also appeared the feeling was mutual.

Finally, after another long stretch of walking, he decided to ask where they were heading.

“Nowhere, really.” She shrugged. “I told you, I would ask some questions and get some answers. This is more of a fact-finding expedition than anything else.”

“What?” He stopped, unable to believe he’d heard her correctly. “Fact-finding from whom?”

“The animals, of course.” When she turned around and came back to him, he saw from the intent look on her face that she was serious. “That’s why we haven’t been following a path or a road.”

From the animals
. He decided to humor her. “And what have you learned so far?”

She eyed him, her expression so disappointed that he wondered if she could read his mind. “I’ve learned that we need to go back to the palace and start there. The animals saw the same person you did. Even worse, he’s been here again since then. He killed several rabbits and left their carcasses to rot. They saw a man, tall and fair with light-colored eyes. They sensed something dark inside him.”

“Perfect. Now all we need to do is find him.”

“That’s easier said than done,” she finished glumly. “Unfortunately that description fits every single man in the SouthWard kingdom. EastWard, too.”

He refused to be cowed. “Maybe so, but I’d recognize him if I saw him again.”

“So would they.” She gave a tired sigh. “It’s just a matter of bringing him around them. Which, of course, would be impossible without knowing who he is.”

“Let’s go back.” Holding out his arm, he told himself it was because he wanted to be gallant, not because he’d relish her touch. And when she took it and that same wild longing swept through him, he resolutely ignored it.

Chapter 10

T
he kiss she’d shared with Ruben changed everything. Since Willow had never kissed anyone before, she didn’t know if it was always like this. So intense. So powerful.

And when she’d felt his body swell with desire, her womanly parts had come alive. She’d wanted him, in a gut-wrenching, visceral way.

Apparently he hadn’t felt the same.

The sense of loss that had come over her when he’d turned away had been shattering. Used to hiding her inner pain, she gathered her shredded dignity around her like a cloak, glad she was able to look calm and relatively normal when he’d finally turned back to her.

She’d let the peace of the woods surround her. As usual, the sounds and scents of the forest were calming, balm upon her troubled soul. The bold scree of the crow, the richness of damp earth and pine and maple, the way the dappled sunlight made shadows dance on the carpet of fallen leaves.

But her sense of tranquility was only fleeting as she forced herself to remember why they were here. Into this beauty, a killer had gone. Shaking her head, she tried to reconcile herself with the notion.

He’d been here only a short while ago, according to the wolves. His evil had left a taint and a blight upon the balance of the earth.

She wondered why she hadn’t sensed it. No matter, because she knew it was true. The animals did not lie. The concept was foreign to them. They’d told her of the man who only minutes before had butchered small creatures for sport, leaving their carcasses to rot in the humid day. His actions had been more than cruel, they’d been insulted. He’d dishonored their lives.

The predatory ones, hawk and wolf and fox, who would not touch meat already dead, had skirted the area nervously. Finally, the carrion birds had come, big and black and awkward, their tattered feathers scattering as they fought over their spoils.

The perfect balance of life had been ruined. Evil had come to her woods. Jaw set, Willow sensed the evil putting tendrils of darkness through her forest. As they came upon the spot, the birds warned her. They didn’t actually have to—the scent of death still hung acrid in the air.

“Shadows of Darkness,” Willow muttered faintly. The edges of her vision faded to gray, as though she might pass out. Resolutely, she sucked in great gulps of air, steadying herself. She stopped and closed her eyes, unable to bear the bloody sight.

“What kind of man does such a thing?” Ruben asked, his tone hoarse as he surveyed the bloodbath—a churned up mess of bones and fur and blood. “Hunger or the need for a warm pelt, that makes sense. But to kill for no reason, other than taking cruel pleasure in the act of killing?”

Absurdly, she found herself thinking of her chores. Distraction, grounding her to normalcy. There were a hundred small duties she needed to be doing, back at the palace. Briefly, they crossed her mind, like a small, annoying dog nipping at her heels. She pushed them away, grounded once again and able to concentrate on the larger problem.

Her forest had been desecrated.

“Do you think this is the same man?” she asked. “The one who followed me and killed your maid?”

“Who else could it be?” Slowly turning, Ruben glared out into the shadowy woods as though by doing so he could will the offender to step forward and confess.

“We’ll find him,” she said, turning away lest her churning stomach heave. “We have to.” She tried to sound certain.

At her words, his frown deepened. “I confess, I was doubtful. But someone who feels the need to kill for the act of taking a life, will feel this compulsion again. We just need to be near when he does. I would recognize him, I think.”

He would kill again. Somehow, such a rational thought hadn’t occurred to her. “Are my people in danger?” she asked, worried.

“They could be.” His mouth tightened. “Now that he’s killed a human, I don’t think butchering animals will satisfy him any longer.”

She’d wanted to leave the palace before. Venture out in a search for the villain. Now, she wasn’t so sure. “If he’s nearby, then we have no reason to travel to seek him out.”

“Unless he leaves.”

They exchanged glances, the unhappiness in his expression undoubtedly mirrored in hers.

“How will we know?” she asked finally. “I’m sure he won’t be kind enough to give us notice.”

“No.” Grim-faced, he once again surveyed the damage. “The best way to track him is to follow the kills.”

“And hope no other people get hurt,” she said.

As she walked with Ruben back toward the castle, she covertly studied him. She’d always considered herself a good judge of character, able to read most people’s inner psyche with one quick glance. Of course, she acknowledged with a rueful smile, most of the people she met were Brights and pretty darn transparent.

But Ruben was...different.

When she looked at him, his aura seemed cloudy, as though enveloped in a cloak of fog. Sometimes she saw his wolf more sharply than he, though the wolf hadn’t yet manifested in corporeal form.

She put this down to the fact that he was a Shape-shifter. The only one she knew.

“What is it?” Ruben asked, startling her. Apparently, lost in thought, she’d been staring for far too long.

Deciding to be honest, she told him what she’d seen. The notion that his inner wolf had manifested in his aura clearly stunned him.

“You mentioned that before and I’m still trying to process that. Can everyone here see it?” he demanded. “Or is that one of your special skills?”

She didn’t want to remind him again that she had no special skills. “I’m not sure. I’m thinking it might be due to my peculiar affinity with animals.”

The tension in the set of his jaw relaxed somewhat. “Good. I’d rather not field a bunch of pointless questions.”

That she could understand. “I think we need to come up with a way to make the killer reveal himself.”

“But how? We know nothing about him other than his physical appearance. All we have is the fact that I’ve seen his face.”

Which meant they had to hope Ruben saw his face again. Otherwise, they could prove nothing.

* * *

Sickened and disgusted by the wasteful carnage he’d witnessed, Ruben needed to change the subject. Something else, anything else, to distract him from thoughts of the horrible scene.

He grabbed her hand. “Tell me about your land,” he asked Willow. “You mentioned SouthWard, which is here, and EastWard. What about the other directions, North and West?”

“We, those of us who are SouthWard and EastWard, are the Brights. Your human legend calls us the Seelies. We are supposedly all good and wonderful and shoot rainbows out our—” She stopped, apparently horrified at what she’d almost revealed.

“Anyway,” she continued in a much quieter voice. “Those of the NorthWard and WestWard are known as the Shadows, or the Unseelies. They are dark, both in nature and appearance. They are considered evil and dangerous. You’d do best to avoid them whenever possible.”

He regarded her curiously. “And which are you, Willow? Because you don’t resemble—”

“I know,” she interrupted him, her expression resolute. “As I mentioned earlier, rumor and gossip have it that my mother, Queen Millicent, once had an affair with a NorthWard man. I am the result,” she gestured with her free hand. “Which explains so many things, my appearance of course, and the loss of magical abilities. Light cancels out dark.”

He studied her, suddenly understanding. “This also means—”

Again she cut him off, as though she’d heard the words too many times. “Yes, if it’s true, then I truly am a bastard, not fit to be a royal heir. Believe me, that’s another point my sister, Tatiana, never fails to make.”

He gave a low whistle. “No wonder you sneak into Teslinko. This place is toxic.”

“Yes.” A trace of bitterness tainted her faint smile. “At least there no one looks at me as though I carry some horrible contagious disease.”

He might have laughed at the apt description, but this was anything but funny.

“Why have you never traveled to NorthWard?” he asked, genuinely curious. “Confronted the man rumored to be your father and demanded to know if it was true?”

Immediately she tugged her hand free. The horrified look she gave him made him wonder why what he’d said was so awful.

“Do you think I have a death wish?” she asked, her gaze searching his face. “Our peoples are enemies. They would kill me the instant I set foot over the border between our lands. Not to mention what my own people would do to me if I were to somehow make it back unscathed.”

“Kill you? Why?”

“Because I am a tangible reminder of what they don’t want to believe.” Earnestly, she took his arm, sending another violent shock through him. “I know you’re an outsider and you don’t know our ways. But believe me, my mere existence is a reminder, every single day, of my mother’s foolish indiscretion. I’m amazed the king didn’t smother me in my sleep.”

Now it was his turn to be horrified. “Are you serious? I thought you said your people were the good ones in all this.”

“Which is probably the only reason I’m still alive.” Her tone changed, the abrupt flippantness telling him she had finished discussing the topic.

For now, he told himself. He was beginning to see why his father had wanted him to come here and learn these people’s ways. Perhaps as an example of what not to do.

* * *

To be fair, his suggestion hadn’t been anything she hadn’t thought of doing herself, Willow realized as she and Ruben trudged back toward the castle. If King Puck wasn’t her actual birth father, she wanted to meet the man who was. Unfortunately, she’d never been able to learn his name. She didn’t dare ask her mother and, for all Tatiana’s mean-spirited teasing, her sister didn’t know, either. Without the name, Willow didn’t even have a prayer of finding him.

Which was just as well. Because even if she knew who he was, traveling there to meet him would risk setting off an international incident. Assuming the man would even see her, never mind acknowledge her as his daughter.

Worse, she might be viewed as a danger. After all, she carried royal blood, a mixture of the Bright and the Shadows. As such, she could be seen as a visible symbol, proof that unity was possible between two such diverse groups. Therefore, she would be considered a threat to those who wished the two factions remain enemies.

Again, this was fine with her. She had no desire to become friends with any Shadows. Ever since she’d been a small child, like all the other Bright children, she’d been threatened with them whenever she’d misbehaved. They were like the monsters that lurked in the mist.

Now, as an adult, she knew they were just people. A lot like the Brights, but different, too, in many fundamental ways. She had no doubt that they’d harm her if she were careless or foolish enough to wander into their territory.

The Shadows Court was rumored to be menacing, full of intrigue and deadly magic of the type that would drift into one’s room at night and steal the very breath from your lungs. The thought made her shiver.

Despite her appearance, which assured she’d fit in, she didn’t believe she possessed an evil bone in her body. She could no more pass as a Shadow than one of them could pass as a Bright.

She could never go there. Nor, she told herself as she had on many sleepless nights growing up, did she want to.

Ruben made a sound, bringing her back to the present. They’d made it to the top of a small rise in the land, enabling a grand view in many directions. Flowers and green, as far as the eye could see.

“I thought by now we’d be able to see the palace,” he said, sounding perplexed.

“We’re almost there,” she said, making her voice sunny and cheerful, as befitted a Bright. Then, feeling Ruben’s curious gaze on her, she tugged him toward the castle, already regretting telling him anything even remotely personal.

She knew virtually nothing about him. He claimed to be a Shape-shifter, able to change into a wolf at will. Her wild animals, from smallest chipmunk to ferocious wolf, hadn’t recognized him as anything but a man.

Except, she reflected silently, the wolves.

Maybe she should demand proof, ask him to become a wolf in front of her, so she could see if he’d spoken truth, once and for all.

They were almost within sight of the castle. If she was going to finally work up the nerve to ask him, she needed to do it quickly.

* * *

There were several things Ruben hadn’t expected when he’d handcuffed himself to Willow. First and foremost, he hadn’t expected her story to be true. The entire notion of a veil or passageway, between worlds, had seemed way too surreal.

Then, while he was still reeling from the shock of realizing she’d told the truth, he’d been surprised at how beautiful—if garish—her home actually was.

From then on, Willow had been a veritable wellspring of surprises. Her story, her family, the unabashed gaudiness of her home, each new revelation came completely and utterly from left field.

And, just when he thought he’d heard it all, she hit him with something new. Talking to wild animals? Seeing his wolf in his aura? He began to wonder if he’d wake up in a few hours, only to realize all of this had been a dream.

When they’d happened upon the blood scene of the slaughter, he’d known she’d been telling the truth. The animals had told her this man had killed. Now they’d witnessed proof.

It was a little difficult to swallow. Had it only been a day since he’d stood in the abandoned tower and wondered if his life could possibly get any worse?

“Are you all right?” Willow asked him, her voice curious. “You look as though you’re a million miles away.”

He had to grin at her apt description. “In a way, I was. All of this is so unreal. I keep wondering what’s going to happen next.”

“Okay, listen to me.” Stopping, she tugged on his arm, making him look at her. The earnestness in her expression made her appear far more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

“You need to watch your back,” she continued. “I don’t know how things are in Teslinko, but the court here is a dangerous place. Anyone, my parents, my sister—”

“Your sister?” He remembered the glorious, man-eating creature he’d met earlier and nodded. “Never mind.”

BOOK: The Wolf Prince
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