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Danu paced Magnus’s bedchamber, fist secure around her moonstone. She ought to be rejoicing at having it back, and in a way, she was, but worry eclipsed her joy.
The children were missing.
They were the hope of her people. Without them and without her restored to her deity so she could bless them, wolfkind would perish.
Her pacing brought her to the window. A tapestry covered the opening to keep in the warmth. She lifted the corner to judge the time. Beyond Glendall’s manicured, frost-covered grounds, a faint blue glow on the horizon meant dawn was near. Magnus had been gone all night.
She wished she could be at his side, but when she’d offered to go with him, he’d reminded her that everyone thought she was Seona. It would raise too many questions if she fixed herself at his side after shunning him for so long.
Still, she craved the knowledge of all he’d learned. She wished to soothe him and to discuss with him this dark turn of events.
She squeezed her moonstone. Indecision pulled at her.
I could restore myself right now. In a heartbeat, I could be Danu Goddess of Wolfkind once more.
But she would have no power with which to bless her people. She would be locked in Hyrk’s dungeon, and Seona would be here in the bedchamber of her king, wearing her moonstone. Unthinkable. Not only would the human woman have no idea how to handle Hyrk, but she would offer no support to Magnus.
Magnus needed support. He needed counsel. He needed her.
She could not leave. Not yet. She must see Hyrk defeated first, and despite this fragile, mortal body, her current circumstance put her in a better position to fight than when she’d been locked behind enchanted bars.
That settled, she turned her mind to the children’s disappearance. Only Hyrk could be behind something so devastating, so there was no question of who. But why would he strike at the children? Why not go after the human women? Or the wolfkind women? Why not attack Magnus, Anya, or Riggs, the mortals who had thwarted his plan by killing his most powerful followers?
They needed information. And she knew just the Fae who could get it for them.
Focusing on her moonstone, she pictured Duff’s face. “Fae Lord of Darkness,” she said quietly, so as not to draw the attention of the guards outside. “Cursed by Arwan, Shadow Walker, Mischief Maker, by my power and for the good of wolfkind, I summon you to me now.”
She waited for her relic to warm in her hand as her power rose to meet its maker. And she waited. And she waited.
Nothing happened. Duff’s familiar voice did not call to her from the shadows, and shadows there were aplenty since the fire was down to glowing embers and all but one candle had sputtered and died.
She repeated the incantation. Still, the chamber remained empty save for her.
Her moonstone did not warm in her hand. It held her power—she knew it did, because Magnus had told her how it granted the holder the ability to understand any tongue. He had used it to speak with the rescued human women. Anya had relied on it as her only means of communication when she had first come to this realm.
Mortals, of course, could not access the true power the relic contained—an infinite galaxy of miracles within a tiny, inconspicuous housing. But power was known to bleed from relics. This was why, when in mortal hands, they could produce magical effects, like translation, or the opening of portals.
Of course!
She was mortal. At least temporarily. Her moonstone did not recognize her. It did not answer her because it did not sense the origin of its power within her human body. It was Seona who wore the cloak of deity the moonstone answered to. Not her.
Before she could fully consider the implications, the door to the chamber opened. Two guards strode in, and behind them was one weary-looking king.
“Magnus.” Without thought, she ran to him and threw herself into his waiting arms.
“My love,” he said, and he embraced her with such strength she forgot about her failure to summon Duff. Once he had set her on her feet again, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. Slowly at first. Then fiercely. “I’ve missed you,” he said, whisky-gold eyes ablaze in a face wearing the stress of the night.
“And I you,” she said honestly. “You need rest, my king.” She would prefer to carry on where they had left off earlier, or even to discuss all he’d learned while he’d been away. But exhaustion etched lines into his handsome face. It shadowed his eyes and dimmed the air of virility she found so irresistible.
“There is no time for rest. I’ve only come to freshen up. We’ll break our fast in the solar with my advisors. I trust you slept well, dear lady?”
She frowned at his insistence on breaking his fast when he had not slept a wink. “Of course I didn’t sleep. I was worried sick for the children. And for you.”
His whole face softened. He tucked her nose to his neck and held her there, their bodies pressed together so they shared their warmth. “You do not need to worry for me. I have spent many sleepless nights in service to my people.”
“You should not have to,” she said, arms tight around him. He felt strong and wonderful. Her fingers delighted in exploring his lean waist and muscled back, his broad warrior’s shoulders. Even unwashed, he smelled divine. Like earth and man and leather and—and like sex. The scent of her new body’s arousal clung to him. Her face heated with remembrance even as pride filled her that she had managed to mark her man.
“In a perfect world, I would not have to.” He spoke into her hair. His body relaxed in her hold, as if being with her brought him respite from his troubles. “But our world has not been perfect in a very long time.” He sighed, and guilt pricked her heart.
“It’s my fault,” she whispered. “I let myself be fooled by that—that—”
“Hush, now.” He petted her head and back. His roaming hands soothed her guilt. “We all look back on mistakes and see how we could have avoided them. But none of us—not even a goddess, I’d wager—can go back in time. We must learn from our mistakes.”
“Goddesses should not make mistakes.”
“Kings should not make mistakes. But we do. All the time.” He smiled sadly. “Let’s put it right together.”
Her heart lifted with hope. Magnus almost made it sound like everything could be fixed. The children found, her deity restored, wolfkind flourishing once more. His quiet, humble confidence turned despair into possibility.
“How?” She was not accustomed to asking questions. Usually, she was the one with the answers.
“I do not know.” He held her securely. “We need to find the children, but we have no clues, no idea where to begin our search.” He led her to the ewer and removed his shirt while explaining that the children seemed to have disappeared as a group from the schoolyard.
They shared a look that said they both understood what that meant.
“Hyrk’s relic has been found,” she said.
Magnus nodded as he poured water from the ewer. She loved watching him move about in nothing but his kilt, the way his muscles bunched and slid beneath his bronzed skin. “But by whom?” he said.
Before he could wash himself, Danu took up the cloth, soaked it in the cool water, and wrung it out. Never before had she thought to serve a lover, but it seemed natural to run the cloth over her king’s sculpted chest and ridged abdomen. Oh, if she only had the time to claw her fingers through all that decadent hair. The coat of dark blond hair covering his chest tempted her like nothing else. But they were discussing Hyrk’s stone.
Forcing her mind to the problem at hand, she said, “Tell me all you remember from yesterday morning.” Had it only been a full day since she’d become mortal? It felt as though much more time had passed.
Magnus recounted his confrontation with Hyrk and Seona’s fall while Danu washed his strong shoulders. Lifting his arms, she cleansed the soft hair growing there. At the mention of a hawk flying overhead, she froze.
“The hawk,” he said, no doubt noticing her stillness. “Could one like him take the form of a wild bird?”
“No. But he could slip into the mind of one as he did with the prisoner. He could control it for a time.”
“A hawk could swoop down and snatch a gemstone from a woman’s hand.”
She nodded. Dread filled her at the thought of Hyrk being in possession of his relic. And now that very relic had likely been used to transport the children somewhere.
She finished washing Magnus’s torso. His luxurious coat glistened with moisture. He looked utterly delectable. Despite the grave circumstances, her mortal body heated at the sight of her virile king. She let the cloth fall to the floor and gave in to the impulse to dry him with her tongue.
“My lady,” he sighed, gently hugging her head while she lapped at him.
He tasted of salt and clean skin. He smelled like black tea and winter forests. Beneath her roaming fingertips, he felt like heaven. If only they had the luxury of time. There was so much of him yet to explore. So much of her new body to explore. She had experienced a brief pinnacle of pleasure as a mortal and craved so much more. She wanted to give Magnus so much more.
But it was not meant to be. Hyrk was on the move, and they had to act. She forced herself to back away.
“Don’t stop now. It was just getting good.” The masculine voice did not come from Magnus. She recognized that voice.
Magnus spun to face the shadow of the privy screen. A dagger had appeared in his hand, drawn so quickly from its sheath, she had barely caught the movement.
“Show yourself!” he commanded.
The door to the chamber flew open. “Sire? Is all well?” A guard stood at the ready, axe raised at his side.
Danu stepped in front of Magnus. “False alarm. Merely the wind moving the tapestry.” She motioned toward the covered window.
“Sire?” The guard was not going to accept a dismissal from anyone but his king.
She reached behind her and caught Magnus’s wrist, trying to convey that he must trust her.
“We are fine, Holt,” Magnus said in a clipped voice that showed he would trust her but he was not happy about it. “Perhaps I am prone to overreacting this morning.”
Holt sheathed his axe. “Understandable, Sire.” He gave a curt nod then closed the door as he returned to his post.
“Explain,” Magnus growled. At the same time, he made a quick movement so he was the one clutching her wrist instead of the other way around. With a twist much like a dance step, he put himself between her and the privy screen. He had not returned his weapon to its sheath.
“Magnus,” Danu said, soothing his tense back with strokes of her hand. “May I present Duff, Fae Lord of Darkness.” Stepping to Magnus’s side, she peered into the shadow Duff had chosen. “Duff, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Magnus, King of Marann, Emperor of Eire.”
“At last, we meet.” Duff’s voice issued from the triangular patch of darkness. “I would greet you properly with a bow and a kiss, but I am chained to darkness, cursed by the Fae King Arwan.”
Magnus still had a firm hold on her wrist. She rolled her eyes and twisted free. “Duff is no threat,” she said. “He is on our side.” To the shadow, she said, “Did you feel me summon you?”
Magnus cut a glance at her, but his attention remained fixed on the shadow. “You’re the one who brought information of Alexander freeing the prisoner. You’re the one who visited Danu in her dream.” For the last part, his voice dropped to a near growl.
“I am,” Duff said breezily. “And if it pleases the king, I have more information.”
“Why do you wish to help us?”
Danu elbowed him in the ribs. “He’s a friend.”
“No Fae offers aid to a mortal without exacting a price.”
Danu snorted.
Duff said, “My price is this.”
She stiffened, not expecting her friend to trade information for his own gain. She had thought they were beyond that.
“Once Hyrk is defeated, the human women are to be returned to their homes. Immediately and with escorts to protect them.”
She felt tension pour off Magnus. He gritted his teeth. “I don’t trust that gemstone. I’ve used it, yes, but I cannot abide exposing those innocents to dark magic any more than necessary. It’s unpredictable. I cannot agree to your terms.”
Duff made a dismissive noise. “If we defeat Hyrk, you won’t need to rely on his relic to send the women home. Trust their wellbeing to me, and I will see it done.”
“Never.”
Danu stood on her toes to kiss her protective king’s cheek. “You can trust him,” she said. “He is not like the Fae you’ve heard about in magical tales.”
“She’s right,” Duff said. “I’m much more handsome.”
Danu ignored his quip. “Is this what Seona wants?”
At the mention of the human’s name, Magnus’s shoulders relaxed.
“It is. And I would see it done because I love her.”
Danu felt her mouth fall open in surprise. Then her heart warmed. Duff in love. That was something she never imagined to see with her own eyes. “My, my,” she said. “The human has you charmed.”
“You mean I have her charmed,” the Fae said, sounding affronted. “Do we have a deal?”
“The humans are in my custody,” Magnus said. “I cannot simply hand them over to one of the Fae, no matter how well-meaning.”
“Which is why you’ll send escorts,” Duff said. “I’ll take one at a time and see them back to where—and when—they wish to go. Your escorts will ensure their safety. I shall provide the magic. Upon my return each time, you’ll receive a full report from your men.”
Danu wondered how Duff planned to accomplish such magic, considering how limited he was under Arwan’s curse. But she trusted him completely. She squeezed Magnus’s arm, hoping to reassure him.
Her king bent his head to her. “You’re certain he is trustworthy?”
“Yes,” she said. “I truly believe he wants what’s best for those women. And if he says he can do it, he can do it.”
“All right,” Magnus said. “You help us defeat Hyrk, and I vow to allow the women to return to their homes. With one exception.”
Danu held her breath. Did Magnus have an attachment to one of the human women?
He tucked her tight against his side. “Seona must remain. She is to be mother to my heir.”
Oh. He meant her. Or rather Seona. Her stomach curled in on itself. Magnus was holding her, but he still planned to impregnate Seona with his heir.
She felt Duff’s eyes on her and squirmed under his perusal.
“Seona’s fate will be decided by Seona,” Duff said at last. “That is my final offer. Take it or leave it.”
Magnus huffed a breath out his nose. What was going through his mind? Was he even now planning how he might tempt Seona to remain with him once they were returned to their rightful bodies?
“I accept,” her king said. He sheathed his dagger. “Now tell us all you know.”
* * * *
Travis rubbed his hands together, willing warmth into his stiff fingers. At last, enough wood had been gathered to keep one of the two fireplaces in the great hall lit. Along with the other pups assigned to cleaning the great hall, he’d found several moth-eaten tapestries folded in dusty chests above stairs. Using sticks from the kindling pile, they’d created frames for the fabric and arranged the makeshift screens to create a small room around the fire. Despite the holes in the tapestries, the area retained the fire’s warmth. They would not freeze in the night, at least.
A commotion in the kitchen caused some of the pups to get up and shift the screens for a better view. The older boys had returned from hunting. They carried the cleaned carcasses of a small boar and three foxes.
Travis jumped up to help prepare for dinner. Amidst the debris in the great hall, they’d found one serviceable table and righted it. No tableware had been found, so pots and pans from the kitchen would serve to hold portions for each of them. There were no goblets to drink from, but the deep snow outside would be simple enough to melt. Travis chose a large pot from the pile of supplies and took it outside to fill with the frozen white powder.
During dinner, Alexander positioned himself at the head of the table with Marcus and Boone on either side of him. Looking like a stick between two boulders, he carried himself like a king. The blond hair Travis shared with his brother may as well have been a crown upon his head.
“Good work today, men,” Alexander said, motioning with a boar leg. Travis rolled his eyes. The age of manhood was twenty-five. The eldest among them was Marcus, who would be twenty in a few days and able to enter training. Even he was five years from adulthood. “We need to make this place suitable for female company, so eat, rest well, and tomorrow, we begin setting this keep to rights.”
The older boys, clustered toward the head of the table, began jostling each other and wagging their eyebrows. How could they be so daft? There were no females. Either Alexander was lying—though to what end, Travis couldn’t imagine—or he believed his own claims. Travis recalled the red gemstone and wondered if perhaps the same mania that had caused his father to betray Magnus was now beginning to fester inside Alexander.
Whatever Alexander’s aims, Travis had to find a way to reach King Magnus. The whole of Chroina was no doubt looking for them this very moment. They wouldn’t rest until each pup was found. Since Travis knew his king wouldn’t rest, he determined to do the same.
I’ll escape tonight, when the others are sleeping.
He had thought it through while cleaning all day. The fastest way to get to King Magnus was to steal the gemstone from Alexander. If Travis pretended to go to sleep near his brother, he might have a chance. The thought of actually using the stone made his stomach churn, but it must be done. He couldn’t risk a journey on foot this time of year. Nor could he bear the idea of taking weeks to reach Marann when the journey could be as short as a single step.
A single step, and he could be back by Anya’s side, back at the chores and lessons he loved so much, back where his heart was.
The screens were around the fire again, and musty hay had been brought in from a collapsed structure that must have been the stables. They would sleep in a group to keep warm. This would make slipping the stone from Alexander’s pocket easier.
The younger pups were lying down to sleep while the older ones sat around with cups of warmed water, talking quietly. Travis would be expected to fall asleep with the younger lads. Not wanting to draw attention, he curled up next to Ruben and Nolan. He was exhausted and cold, but he refused to sleep. Instead, he watched Alexander move from lad to lad, talking privately with them. He spoke to Ruben now, who had been one of the more outspoken skeptics during his speech at the schoolyard.
Travis had seen Ari do this a hundred times. His father would bend the ear of a council member, a governor, or a captain in the army. Travis had watched as the faces of powerful men changed. Skepticism would turn to caution, then to acceptance. Ari had been a master at convincing others to his way of thinking. It looked like Travis had not been the only one watching.
Finally, Alexander came to the fire. He nudged Julian with his boot and told him to give up his pallet. The younger lad did so without question.
Travis motioned him over. “Here. We’ll keep each other warm.”
Julian nodded his appreciation and lay down with his back to Travis’s. In a moment, he was snoring again.
He longed to ask the other lad what he thought of all this, but he dared not with so many ears around. He could not risk standing out in any way. He had one chance to steal that gemstone. If he failed, all would be lost.
Dim orange light flickered over the few lads still talking. As the closest one to the fire, Alexander was easiest to see. Only a few sleeping bodies separated them. It was just a matter of time.
Yawning, Alexander stretched out and appeared ready to sleep. Before closing his eyes, he motioned his two overgrown lackeys to him. Travis’s heart sank as the two older boys sprawled out on either side of his brother. To get to Alexander, he would have to climb over at least one of them.
There was no help for it. He had to do it.
Biding his time, he watched the fire grow dim. No one roused to fuel it. He was certain if Alexander were still awake, he would command someone to add some logs. Beside his brother, Marcus snored loudly. Boon’s back was to him. It rose and fell with slow, deep breaths.
It was now or never.
Moving slowly, he rose to a crouch then paused to listen for anyone stirring. He heard nothing but snores and Julian’s customary sleep-muttering. Placing each step carefully between his sleeping companions, he made it to Marcus’s feet.
His heart pounded so loudly, he feared the sound of it would wake his brother or his guards. Slow, he commanded the pumping organ. Easy, he told his lungs.
He began a painfully slow crawl over Marcus’s legs, planting one hand in the hay beside Alexander.
A great, rumbling fart came from Marcus, making Travis freeze. He held his breath, waiting to see if the older boy would stir. He didn’t.
Travis began breathing again and nearly fainted from the stench. Eyes watering, he inched his fingers to the lip of Alexander’s trousers pocket, the one he’d seen him slip the stone into.
In the smallest imaginable increments, Travis’s finger slipped into his brother’s pocket. He felt the warmth from Alexander’s hip. A little farther, a little farther. Watching Alexander for any sign of stirring, he searched for a hard, jagged shape.
Danu, help me.
A little farther. A little farther. There! He only had to dip in a little more until he could secure his hands around it.
Alexander’s eyes flew open.
For a heart-stopping moment, Travis could have sworn his irises glowed red.
He whipped his hand from his brother’s pocket, but too slowly.
Alexander grabbed his wrist. “What have we here?” his brother said. “A traitor to the new kingdom? Marcus,” he said sharply. “Boone. Get up. My little brother needs a lesson in loyalty.”
Travis’s heart sank. He’d lost his only chance. What would happen to him now?
He didn’t have to wait long. With Alexander trailing behind, Marcus and Boone dragged him outside by his coat collar.
A few of the other boys had woken and stumbled out after them. “What’s going on?” Travis recognized Ruben’s voice.
“Caught little Travis trying to take my gemstone, that’s what,” Alexander said. “Now he’s going to learn what happens when someone thinks to usurp my position. Marcus, hold him. Boone. Teach him a lesson.”
Travis twisted in Marcus’s cruel grip until he could see Ruben. “I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to.” He didn’t know what he was saying, only that he didn’t want to be taught any kind of lesson by the ham-fisted Boone.
Ruben’s brow furrowed with concern, but when the blows started falling, he did nothing to intervene. Boone’s fists connected with his face, his stomach, his ribs. He didn’t know how long the beating went on, only that it was long enough for nearly every pup to come out of the keep to see what the trouble was.
When it was over, Alexander said, “Everyone. Go back to bed. Traitors get to sleep out in the cold.” He followed the words with a kick to Travis’s side that made him cry out. “You better pray the cold finishes you, little brother. Because I hear these mountains are filled with caves, and those caves are filled with the rejects from Jilken’s breeding experiments.” He laughed a wicked laugh. “Give my greetings to the monsters.”
Through swollen eyes, Travis watched everyone pass through the fortress’s large doors. The meager light spilling onto the snow disappeared with a thud as the doors closed.
He was in darkness. His mouth bled freely. His face felt like mush, and his body felt like he’d been run over by a dozen merchant carts.
What a fool he’d been for thinking he could be a hero! He wasn’t brave like King Magnus or strong like Riggs. He was the smallest of them. The weakest. And now, if he managed not to freeze to death, he would be eaten by the animals of the forest. Or the monsters.
He curled into a ball and shivered. He ought to crawl around the keep to the stables. The structure was as broken as he was, but it would offer some protection from the elements.
Yes. He ought to crawl. But he was so cold. And tired.
He didn’t want to move.
Minutes passed. Or it might have been hours. The cold took on life around him. It seemed to press at him, nudging him. Wait. It wasn’t the cold. It was a wet nose.
He whimpered.
The sounds of paws crunching in snow filled him with terror.
A warm tongue licked a line across his cheek.
“P-p-p-please don’t eat-t-t-t m-m-me.” He raised his arms over his face, protecting himself as best he could.
The jaws of what had to be an enormous wolf closed over his arm at the elbow.
He screamed, expecting the teeth to slice through him.
But they didn’t. As if his elbow were a handle, the wolf dragged him through the snow, away from the keep.
Travis kicked his legs, but they didn’t work right. He was so cold his body wasn’t following the commands he gave it.
I’m going to die tonight.
It was his last thought before the cold overtook him.
