Chapter 1

Thirty years later …

Kellan made his way through the crowded market, easily shouldering past the witches. They seemed to sense and respect his brute strength, scurrying out of his way and rarely making eye contact. It was as if they suspected the spirit of a predator resided in his soul.

They were right.

Kellan preferred not to deal with any of them anyway, so he made no effort to hide his natural aggression as he would normally. He’d rather not be here in the first place, so the scampering aside to avoid his path suited him just fine.

Many here thought him an arrogant ass and he lacked motivation to prove otherwise.

The market’s scents filled his nostrils. Spices and meats were the most prevalent. He also caught whiffs of oils and medicines. Some were pleasant, some were repulsive. Some, he knew, were miracles.

If his people could create such magics, his kingdom might be experiencing far better circumstances.

He opened his senses, taking in all he could. Searching and not finding what he sought. He did it again to be sure. Interesting.

Kellan frowned, looking around at the witches selling their wares. There was one noticeable scent absent in this Westland market’s fragrance today. He wondered if his companion had noticed.

He knew he should start referring to them as elementals. He had heard the Gwydions took offense to the word ‘witch,’ and Kellan did not want to accidentally initiate this specific offense on his trip. He might be egotistical, but he wasn’t inclined to hurt a young lady’s feelings with his words.

Many of the market’s odors had changed, become more subdued, since the last time he’d visited. Granted, that was 18 years ago. Perhaps they could shield scents now? Contain their magic? He would have to remember to report this to the Council.

Kellan briefly pondered what the girl would smell like. Scent was everything to his people, and rarely steered them wrong.

The Burghards used scent for most things, from finding food, to predicting rain. Scent also helped them decipher emotions. Lies had an especially foul odor.

He supposed it did not truly matter what the perfume of her essence would tell him. Their fate had been sealed years ago. Kellan was no victim in this pact. He was sure he would need to remind himself of this later.

Foley, his second in command, tried to get Kellan to take in his surroundings, to learn and be knowledgeable about the kingdom for the sake of the girl. But Kellan had no time for sightseeing. He did not intend to be in Gwydion for long.

His eyes darted to the side as his companion gestured for the third or fourth time to a display of fancy merchandise in a store window.

“Perhaps you should try one of the merchant’s shops? She may appreciate a token from her betrothed,” Foley suggested.

Kellan grunted. He would do no such thing. The only reason he was here was because King Edward had requested a first meeting for the engaged pair.

Though the wedding was still two years away, Edward was not inclined to have his oldest daughter feel she was being married off to a stranger. To ease her transition into her new life, Edward set up a series of visits in hopes the couple would get to know one another.

Kellan begrudgingly agreed to these terms. He knew it was reasonable from the Gwydion’s perspective. They didn’t have mates and courtship was an expectation.

Unfortunately, Kellan was not interested in courting the Princess. He did not want to be reminded of the impending nuptials or to pretend this was going to be a joyous occasion. This betrothal was a business transaction, one made for the mutual benefit of both parties.

Though, Kellan supposed his side of the contract was signed out of desperation rather than any true personal benefit. Nothing else would make him abandon hope of finding the woman destiny chose for only him.

He was a son of Burghard and courtship was a foreign concept, one he found tedious and unnecessary. He accepted the fact the girl was a stranger. He could spend time endearing himself once they were married.

Kellan assumed, after the ceremony, they would return to his home and she would eventually find a way to fit into his life. He would guide her and grow to appreciate her efforts. He was sure he was capable of caring for her, especially if her character was similar to either of her parents.

It was the best he could hope for—a caring and respectful marriage, devoid of the natural connection he would have had with his true mate. Kellan felt a twinge in his chest as he considered his path, making a life with someone his wolf had not chosen.

Kellan fully accepted this responsibility, years ago, shortly after the girl’s birth. He had forsaken any chance at finding his mate for this political alliance.

As King, it was the right thing to do. As man, especially one born with the heart of a wolf, a piece of him would wither and die.

But Kellan would do the honorable thing. He would do his best to do right by her and pray his one true mate never crossed his path. At least not until he could imprint, binding himself to the girl forever.

Although, by that time, she would no longer be just a girl. He should probably start thinking of her as an adult. Girl invoked images of the infant he’d seen when he’d first visited Edward to discuss the matter.

It wouldn’t do well to continue to think of her in such a light. Kellan needed to picture her as a woman, one old enough to stand beside him at the altar.

For the Burghards, a marriage ceremony was nothing. It was a blood-mating that would bind two souls together, whether it be as true mates or as two who have imprinted upon one another. Regrettably, imprinting took time, especially when the pair were not a love match.

Kellan’s mind was bothered, fearing there was a chance they would not be compatible. Imprinting would be nearly impossible if they did not like one another. Finding one’s mate was the ultimate gift in life, but there would be no true mating for him.

Kellan tensed at the thought, caught between the need to rage against his responsibilities and the need to embrace his role as the King. He wished his father were alive to help guide him.

Another pang hit his chest. Would he always feel so alone? Wolves did not fare well when they felt isolated, physically or emotionally.

He knew his life was no longer his own. He now had compulsory duties to fulfill for the good of his people. Kellan was not just an alpha—he was the Alpha, the leader, the King. There was no choice to be made. Duty trumped want. Always.

They reached the edge of the town and continued down the path towards the home of his betrothed. The building could easily be seen from the cobblestone street. It stood just beyond a small golden field.

Kellan had been expecting a palace the first time he came here, but this was more of an extremely large cottage. Far grander than the other homes, of course, but small by royalty standards.

There was a castle near the coast, but Edward and his wife, Elora, had chosen to live here, closer to the larger villages and towns. They refused to rule Gwydion from afar.

King Willem had been of the same mindset, wanting to remain amongst most of his subjects. This home was also closer to the borders of the other three kingdoms, which lessened the logistical burden of diplomacy.

The structure was a simple design and reminded Kellan of a large gravestone because it was built of the same stone the Burghards used as grave markers.

It was much darker than most of the other stone buildings in the kingdom. It was also twice as tall.

No gargoyles or parapets adorned the top. Nothing had been added to make the residence more interesting, or, more importantly, to warn off would-be attackers.

Boring came to his mind and he fought the judgmental tone of his thoughts. His preferences included hulking structures built for war.

The main building was surrounded by four others, one of which was a large hall used for celebrations and get-togethers. Each building had the same rectangular design and stone exterior. Each flew the King’s standard, marking them as part of the royal residence.

The Gwydions wanted to be close to the elements. Separating the buildings like this allowed them to walk outside often. Kellan understood this need but was troubled by the lack of security the design provided the family living within.

Edward was an intelligent and formidable elemental. It was more likely than not he’d taken precautionary measures to protect his family. Kellan’s animalistic nature, combined with years of fighting off threats, was probably making him more paranoid than warranted.

Constantly forcing himself to fight his nature was getting to him, and he hadn’t even made it inside the house yet. The sooner he got this meeting over with, the better.

The two wolves in human form walked through the front courtyard, their strides long, purposeful, and in-step to one another. Their large bodies synched naturally, as they did when moving into battle formation.

Kellan looked around, troubled by the lack of plant life. The flowerbeds and large ceramic pots were filled with pale, dry dirt instead of rich, black soil.

The ivy, running along the bottom front of the house and up to the window shutters, was brown and shriveled. If he reached out to touch it, he was sure it would crumble.

It didn’t appear to be diseased, like the forests back home. There were no signs of odd fungi or black illness. No hint of infection permeated the air.

It looked like something had sucked the life right out of the courtyard. Kellan had never seen a Gwydion allow nature to die like this, not when they had the power to prevent it.

He and Foley locked eyes without missing a step. Kellan raised one shoulder in silent response.

The courtyard had once been covered with thick bushes, pruned into precise shapes that gave off an air of sophistication. The ivy had once been lush, mixed with vines which had bloomed large, white flowers.

Bees and other flying insects had once buzzed around the square area in abundance, flitting from flower to flower. Now, aside from the sounds of their steps, the area was silent.

As Kellan and Foley approached the front entrance, a breeze kicked up, twirling and twisting around their bodies. The doors creaked open without assistance from any visible sentry.

Where were the guards? Kellan sniffed the air for magic. It was faint, but it was there.

Without hesitating, the Burghard King and his Second crossed the threshold. This was neither the time nor the place for reluctance, no matter what misgivings the wolves may have had.

They stepped into the foyer while the doors slammed close. The ominous sound died quickly.

Kellan blinked, adjusting to the change in light. Was the room darker than normal? he thought.

Usually, the skylights were uncovered and created a well-lit expanse of room. A quick glance at the tall ceiling showed they were, indeed, covered.

He noticed the absence of the oversized bronze planters that had once filled the entrance and lined the walls near the windows.

“Something feels … off,” Foley whispered.

Kellan nodded as he continued to catalogue the differences.

“Welcome, Kellan, Son of Callum!” a voice echoed from their right.

Kellan and Foley turned to see King Edward approaching. Beside him was his father, Flynn, who had been advisor to the previous king and now held the position for his son.

Kellan smiled and was met with the same expression from Edward. The King of Gwydion hadn’t aged a day since they’d last been together. Neither, of course, had Kellan.

Edward could be described as classically handsome. Had his personality been different, Kellan would describe his friend’s features as cool. Edward reminded him of one of those marble statues in the Temple of Sanctus Femina.

His light brown hair framed the sharp angles of his face. Random locks hung across his forehead, softening Edward’s look.

Elemental green eyes showed warmth and fondness for his guests. Edward had always looked upon his children in a similar fashion. Kellan never understood why his friend would gaze upon him as though he carried comparable favor.

It was one of the many reasons he had always liked Edward. He wished he could say the same for the other rulers of Imperium’s kingdoms.

Kellan had much respect for Edward because he had a humbleness about him others lacked. Members of royal families could easily come across as pompous. Many believed they were owed something and entitled to whatever they wanted.

Wolves held no sense of entitlement, but they, too, could come across as arrogant. It was due to the aloof and wary nature of the beasts when meeting an unknown entity.

The exception to this practice of royal assholery was, and always had been, the royals of Gwydion. In centuries, as far as Kellan knew, not one had done anything to tarnish the family name.

Plus, there was more to Edward than humility and a good name. He was often jovial and always respectful. He put those around him at ease. It made him an expert at peacekeeping, especially when meetings at the Temple went south.

Kellan had always held the male in high esteem. He also felt for the brave king who had lost his young wife, Elora, after she birthed their third daughter.

Instead of falling into despair, as Kellan surely would have, Edward honored Elora’s life by finding joy in their children. He was the epitome of all that was good in this world.

“King Edward,” Kellan greeted, bowing low.

“Nonsense,” Edward chuffed, rolling his eyes and waving a hand in the air. “No titles here. Not when we are to be family.”

Foley snickered at the King’s lack of propriety. Kellan shot the wolf a look and Foley quickly schooled his reaction.

Edward stepped forward, shaking Kellan’s hand and clasping his shoulder. He repeated the greeting with Foley as Kellan did the same with Flynn.

Kellan’s heart lifted slightly at the thought of joining Edward’s family, solidifying their people in a solid alliance. It was important to have trust and respect with your allies, and Kellan couldn’t think of a better ally to have than Edward.

Still, all of Burghard did not support Kellan’s decision to enter into an arranged marriage with someone who was not wolf. His advisors worried he wouldn’t be able to bond with the female, which would be disastrous if his true mate ever surfaced.

No wolf could resist the pull of a destined mate.

But the Gwydions had control over the elements, and the Burghards needed that powerful set of skills. Their precious forest was dying and nothing they did was stopping it.

It had begun years ago, when Kellan’s father, Callum, was King. At first, it was believed some sort of mite or plant disease was moving through their lands. These beliefs were ruled out by both Burghard botanists and several Gwydions Kellan had hired to investigate.

Years of study and observation had revealed little in explanation. Having no idea what was causing the impairment, Kellan and his father did their best to head off the plague-like spread.

They attempted culling the damaged areas, digging and burning borders as they would to slow a fire. For hours upon hours, hundreds of wolves would work in tandem, taking turns, efficiently clearing a wide border of containment.

All in vain. Nothing worked. Not a damned thing gave any hint it was altering the course of the spreading pestilence.

The second they let up, they found more damage beyond what they’d cleared. It was demoralizing.

As the devastation encroached closer and closer to the wolf settlements, the need for assistance grew until the betrothal to Edward’s daughter seemed their only option.

They needed elementals deeply invested in the welfare of the Northland Forest. Of course, they could be contracted for hire, but no elemental would feel the same panic or drive to ensure the catastrophe was ended. Not unless they were a part of the land or of the Burghard pack.

The only way to make an elemental part of the pack was to mate with a Gwydion powerful enough to influence Edward’s decisions. This was why Kellan had agreed to the arranged marriage. He would need the Gwydion’s powers at his command, or, at least, at his wife’s command.

The girl allegedly had control over fire. He’d been informed she had wielded it in ways to exterminate invasive species of vines without causing harm to the other classes of plants and trees.

Kellan suspected this ability, along with the witches’ control of water and earth, was their best hope at saving the vast forest. If he didn’t do something to stop what was happening, their food supply would be gone.

Not only were their crops endangered, but the animals that lived in the woodlands would also face starvation. This was an unacceptable scenario, but one that was becoming more and more likely.

If the unthinkable happened, and the forest completely died out, the wolves would be allowed to hunt on Gwydion land. At least, they would as long as Edward’s daughter or one of her offspring sat on the Burghard throne.

This was reason enough to marry outside of Burghard. The alliance, though, was more than a bonus.

Kellan had heard rumors the Sundari demons, who lived in the Southland, were developing new powers. An alliance with those that could fight magic with magic could prove invaluable in the future.

The Gwydions would gain border protections and a well-trained army out of the pact. They were far more physically weak than the other peoples of Imperium, especially to the elusive Prajna of the Eastland.

No one had seen one in years, but the stories of the vampire kingdom’s ruthlessness were legendary. Some were downright terrifying.

At least the demons were social creatures. They even traded with both Gwydion and Burghard merchants on a regular basis. It helped Kellan keep tabs on them.

But many demons were also tricksters and, as such, Kellan never fully trusted the Sundari. He refused to risk any chance they might someday use their new powers against the other kingdoms. The benefits of mating the girl were great.

Despite his misgivings over giving up a true mate, some part of him acknowledged this was his path. Even the famously gifted Queen Elora had told him her daughter would someday sit on the throne of Burghard.

She’d tried to be reassuring, but the animal within wasn’t convinced.

“Did you drop your horses at the stable?” Flynn asked, breaking Kellan’s train of thought.

“No, we did not want to ride them through the market, so we left them at the inn,” Kellan replied.

Foley grinned. “Yes, my dear friend did not want to draw attention to himself. Which, of course, is impossible.”

The men laughed as they looked Kellan up and down. Most Burghards were huge, by Gwydion standards. Kellan was no exception.

He was over six and half feet tall, with piercing blue eyes. Most of his people had the same blue eyes.

Wolf eyes.

His muscles stretched his tunic tight across his body. His mother often joked he never seemed to stop growing. Kellan knew it was because he never stopped training for the inevitable battles life would surely bring.

Fortunately, Edward was not intimidated by Kellan. He knew Kellan to be an honest man, and a just ruler.

Though, despite his fondness for the wolf, Edward had reservations about making the marriage arrangements shortly after his first child’s birth, but Elora had insisted. Her visions of the Northland King revealed he was to be Edward’s son-in-law.

Elora had told Edward a union was imperative to the future of the kingdom—to both kingdoms. Edward trusted his wife, so he did not outwardly object.

Elora’s visions were well-known to the Burghards. She willingly shared information as it came, and, though her words often came out as riddles, she was never wrong.

Upon hearing that Queen Elora had seen something of Kellan’s future, Kellan immediately agreed to visit.

At the time, Eden was the only royal child, and it was difficult for Edward to agree to specifics of the engagement, especially when Kellan was already over 200 years old. Edward could not picture his infant daughter as an adult and struggled with deciding a proper age for marriage.

He had told Kellan it was unnatural to think of his newborn being included in a marriage contract to someone who had already lived several lifetimes. Edward knew wolf people lived much longer lives than the elementals and fretted over the repercussions of a powerful alpha watching his mate grow old and die.

Kellan informed Edward of his knowledge of one other wolf who had taken an elemental mate. She had lived to be more than 300 years old and only passed away because her mate had been mortally wounded in battle.

Once Burghards mate or imprint, their life force is tied to the other, which would ensure a long life for Edward’s oldest daughter. This seemed to alleviate some of the concern.

“Come,” Edward motioned with his hand, “let us get you some food and drink while we discuss more important things.”

“Such as?” Kellan prompted.

“My daughter, Eden, of course,” Edward replied, leading them down the hall.

As Kellan followed, he caught the faintest trace of a scent amongst the hundreds of others hanging in the air. It smelled wonderful, even as weak as it was.

It smelled like home.

Kellan’s wolf relaxed, helping him let go of some of his inner turmoil. He sniffed again, ensuring the scent would remain with him during today’s ordeal.

He suspected he would need the comfort.

* * *

Nora sprinted through the forest towards the field as fast as she could, knowing she was now late. She detested being late. Tardiness was becoming a habit proving difficult to break.

Her father would likely chastise her but would not be truly upset. The Wolf King was not here for her, and her father did allow Nora more freedoms than her sisters.

Nora knew it was out of pity, but she cherished his leniency. Her times in the forest were her only true moments of peace.

She was not allowed to speak of it, especially to those outside the family. The only people who knew what she was doing were her father, her sisters, and Mara, her governess.

Nora moved like the wind. She was fast, much faster than her sisters. This was more a result of practice than of natural ability.

Nora was the only one of the three that still played in the fields and woods as they did when they were young children. Running, skipping, and jumping were second nature to Nora.

She pumped her arms and legs, welcoming the breeze that resulted from the speed of her movements. Perspiration dotted her face and she smiled, feeling more alive than she had in months.

Today’s session had been overtly fulfilling, dissimilar in its intensity from her usual experience. She felt more powerful than ever and picked up speed, drunk on her giddiness—or, more likely, lightheaded from the lack of oxygen in her lungs.

An image of her passing out while flying across the golden field popped into her head. She laughed aloud with only the forest to hear.

Her family would not see the humor in it. They thought her humor and attitude odd and rarely understood her witty comments. Their loss.

Nora’s sisters would scold her once they witnessed the state her dress and hair were in, not that she would care. Nora paid no mind to their encouragements to behave as a lady would when company came calling.

No company ever came to call on Nora, so she believed the point to be moot.

Sweat was starting to soak into her dress. Nora did not mind the dampness of her clothing, but she hoped she did not give off an unpleasant smell. She knew the visitors would be sensitive to it, but social duties surpassed any desire to stop in her room to clean up.

While she did not care if the visitors saw her fresh from her run, she wasn’t overly fond of being deemed the sister who was not only tardy, but also the one who reeked like donkey dung.

The former was acceptable. The latter, embarrassing for a girl of her age, especially in the presence of a king.

Nora did not mean to be late to everything, especially today. She would rather harm herself than bring unhappiness to her beloved sister, Eden. Sometimes, however, she simply could not bring herself out of the forest. Quite literally.

Today, it was worse. The power anchored her to the woodland floor and told her to stay put. The second she felt whole again, she was released and dashed home.

It was when she first stood she realized nature had been more than generous today. Gliding through the field in front of her home, she felt amazing. It was a novel feeling.

As she entered the courtyard, she avoided the drastic change in scenery, refusing to look at the damage she’d caused in the flowerbeds. It had happened accidentally when she was younger.

The first few times she’d killed off the greenery, her father had replaced it. After the fourth time, he decided it best to leave it alone and wait until Nora could get herself under control.

That was a decade ago. Obviously, she hadn’t gotten anything under control yet.

Once she reached the main doors, she had to manually push them open. She did not have the ability to push them by commanding the wind like her father did. The thought bothered her, but she repressed it and ran to the meeting room.

The door leading into the room was shut, thankfully. Nora took a moment to straighten her dress and smooth her pale blonde hair, both of which were a lost cause. She always looked like she had just gotten out of a wrestling match in the barn.

If their guests had come yesterday, it would have been true. Her hand fisted thinking about that stupid boy who thought he could pick on her.

She smiled again at the secret tussle she’d hid from her sisters. Tarrill Grimm would think twice now he had two black eyes.

Nora took a step towards the door when she heard a man’s voice. She froze with her fingers clutching the handle. She knew that voice as surely as she knew her own name. She had dreamt of it a thousand times.

Nora did not know to whom the voice belonged, but she had heard it calling to her in the dark while she slumbered. Deep and strong, rumbling with a vibration she could almost taste.

She had assumed it was simply a matter of a recurring dream, a childhood fantasy of a future she could not quite fathom. A voice wanting something she wasn’t old enough to understand—but that was all she could garner.

Disembodied voices calling in the dark did not offer much in explanation. She wanted to put a face to the voice but accepted these dreams as one accepts the confusion of any dream, as total nonsense and something not to be explicated.

Nora, similar to her mother, could catch glimpses of the future through visions and dreams. But these dreams were different, nothing like what she felt during one of her episodes where chaotic flashes of a far-off time popped in and out of her consciousness.

For years, Nora had hoped her dreams would put a face with the voice. Vibrations began deep within, pushing out toward her fingertips, reaching for that voice. For the first time in her life, Nora was afraid of getting what she wanted.