Chapter 11

When Nora opened the chamber door, she didn’t expect to see Kellan sitting there. It didn’t look like he had moved an inch. He probably hadn’t.

She exited and walked down the hall, knowing the wolf would follow. He came up beside her again, brushing up against her arm.

Wolves were social creatures, Nora knew. She had gotten somewhat used to Kellan’s hands, but now she would have to get used to the fur. She wondered how long he would remain wolf.

As they descended the stairs, Kellan gave a few yips. Guards seemingly appeared from nowhere and followed them to the kitchen.

Two guards were standing inside the door. Nora nodded to each of them in greeting. Normally, she would try at being cheerful, but a nod was all she could manage for now.

There were a few long tables set up for the staff and for informal dining. Someone had already placed a meal at one of the tables. Kellan escorted Nora to the seat and waited for her to take her place.

Once she was seated, she arranged her napkin in her lap and took a deep breath. Her wolf was still hovering near. Putting an elbow on the table, she rested her cheek on her fist, waiting for him to do something aside from staring.

They remained locked in a silent standoff. Nora wished he would shift and speak to her. Instead, he lowered his head and trotted out one of the doors that led to the meeting rooms.

Her shoulders deflated, and she dropped her hands into her lap. She was used to being the odd person out, but somehow the strain with Kellan cut far deeper than any she’d had with her family.

She supposed it was her lot in life to never experience true companionship, to feel like she was an equal to someone who might care for her.

Loneliness was a feeling she knew well. Like an old friend, it visited often. She’d mistakenly believed sharing her body with her husband would help keep it bay.

“My lady?”

Lost in her own misery, Nora had not heard the guard approaching. She didn’t bother correcting his formal address, choosing some emotional distance from the Burghard.

“Yes?”

“Is the food not to your liking?”

“What?”

“The food, my lady. You’ve been sitting here for almost twenty minutes. I can get you something else, if you prefer.”

“No, please don’t. It’s not the food. It’s … nothing. It looks perfect.”

She picked up a spoon and dug in to the bowl quickly. Thankfully, it was no longer piping hot.

“See? Mmm,” she declared inelegantly. She really was the least queenly person in existence.

The guard seemed pleased and returned to his post. She felt ridiculous, but continued eating. After the first few bites, her appetite returned with a vengeance.

Nora ate her meal in silence while the guards watched. It was odd, being in a room with others yet still suffering from solitude. She had never felt so alone in all her life.

At least the food was comforting. The cooks had made a delicious soup and cut a loaf of crusty bread. The more Nora ate the better she felt.

She was starving and consumed it hastily. She probably should have eaten slowly, but her appetite wouldn’t allow it.

As she was chewing the last of her bread, her husband entered the room. Clothed, this time. He didn’t say anything as he came closer.

Kellan took the seat across the table from Nora. He refilled her water and poured one for himself before he allowed his eyes to meet hers.

Kellan ached for Nora. He felt physically ill at not being able to touch her. He feared if he tried, she would pull away again. Kellan wasn’t sure he could withstand it, so he didn’t make any sort of advancement on her.

“Is there news? Have you found out who was responsible?” Nora asked, needing to break the silence more than wanting the information on the criminal.

Kellan nodded. “We know which pitcher was poisoned. We also know who poured it into your cup.”

“Who?” she breathed, already knowing the answer. Only one person had come near to fill her drink.

“Isla,” he answered.

Nora swallowed, wondering if Isla could have been jealous to the point she would go to such lengths to get rid of Nora. Wolves could scent the tiniest amounts of almost anything. Isla should have known that traces of her scent would be on that pitcher. The King himself saw Isla pour it. It didn’t make sense.

“Has she been questioned?” Nora asked.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She claims to know nothing. I do not believe her.”

“I would like to speak with her.”

“No,” he immediately replied.

Kellan did not want his mate anywhere near Isla.

“It wasn’t a request, Kellan. I was the one who was poisoned. If she did it, I would like to speak with her. Surely, I’m owed at least that much, am I not?”

Kellan’s jaw ticked. Not because he was angry with Nora, but, rather, with the whole situation. His entire existence was now devoted to the woman sitting across from him and he detested knowing someone in his kingdom wished her dead.

Her request wasn’t unreasonable. Kellan did not want to let her confront Isla, but he understood Nora’s need to face her. He would want the same if in her shoes.

He could continue to impose his will at the expense of his marriage, or he could give his wife something he would have demanded for himself. Nora was not in the wrong here.

Instead of replying, he stood and held out his hand. “Come.”

Nora glowered at him, at his command. One off-putting word and her loneliness vanished. She welcomed the change.

If he thought she was going to back down, he was drastically mistaken. She scrutinized his hand, wishing she had control over fire so she could scorch it.

For a moment, Kellan didn’t think she would accept. In fact, he thought he smelled a hint of fire coming from her. It didn’t smell like her usual scent of fury. It must have been something from within the kitchen area.

“I will take you to Isla. Take my hand, Nora.”

Still, she sat, staring at his offered hand. His muscles clenched in his abdomen as he worried she would not willingly reach for him.

Then Kellan did something he never did. He pleaded. “Please.”

Nora could see the pain in Kellan’s eyes. He would take her to Isla, despite it going against his need to keep his wife away from anyone who wanted to harm her.

The payment he would extract was that she allowed him to hold her hand. She thought it a fair trade, so she put her hand in his.

Kellan fought the instinct to pull Nora against him. He would tread lightly and take what she offered. For now.

If she thought he would stop at the joining of their hands, she was mistaken. Kellan would be patient, but he would coax her until she relented, whatever it took.

Nora was his, and he would make it his mission she fully understood what that meant.

* * *

Kellan led his wife through the lower bowels of Castle Burghard. The first level below ground was comprised of half a dozen large rooms, mainly used for storage.

The next held a variety of weapons rooms and one chamber with venting for the forge. Everything from swords to horseshoes came from the castle’s blacksmith who preferred the cooler climate below ground.

The two levels below that were for prisoners and the like. Most of those rooms hadn’t been used in decades. There was almost always one or two cells occupied, but truly violent offenders were dealt with summarily.

It usually involved the removal of their heads from their bodies. Capital punishment wasn’t common, but it was frequently necessary where wolves were concerned. A Burghard who could not control his wolf could not be allowed to live.

It was always the king that performed the executions. If Kellan was going to sentence a prisoner to death, he had better be able to live with the blood on his hands—literally. It was a valuable lesson taught to him by his father.

Callum prepared Kellan well for his role, but Kellan had never truly wanted it. Kellan becoming King could only mean the previous monarch was no longer living. Thoughts of his father added another blanket of despair over his heart.

In the silence between Kellan and Nora, it was far too easy to continue to let in the gloom. It didn’t help that his current environment was dark and dank. The air was unnaturally still, and he could taste the staleness. It was like walking through a tomb.

Kellan was not looking forward to the coming confrontation. He was having difficulty getting his head around what had happened right under his nose.

Aside from the threat to Nora, the identity of the culprit was most disturbing. He may have once shared a bed with Isla, but she knew they were not mates. Every wolf ever born understood the sanctity of matehood.

Trysts were short-lived. Surely Isla had wanted to find her own true mate. She was too young to believe she wouldn’t. Her actions all but guaranteed her true mate would never find her or she him.

He would think it poignant if he wasn’t so damned furious. Only his anger had any hope of overtaking his guilt at having been the possible reason for Isla’s actions.

Kellan drew deep calming breaths. His wolf was quiet at the moment, content to have his mate in hand. It was the man who was towing the line of reason.

When he reached the bottom of the first landing, he chanced a peek back at Nora’s face. Her head lifted, and he could see the reflections of flames from the torches dancing in her eyes. It gave her a look far too ominous for his tastes.

At least she gave no indication of fear or upset. She wasn’t trembling or hesitating, and her scent gave nothing away. Kellan didn’t know what to make of it. He squeezed her hand and continued his lead.

The small hanging luminaries were spaced closely, providing ample light. Shades of orange licked at the stone walls, driving off the shadows.

Wolves had excellent vision and did not need such illumination. But the firelight kept away many of the rodents. He almost wished it was darker and his wife would be forced to stick close.

Despite the overabundance of torches, the temperature dropped the further they went, though Kellan hardly felt it. Wolves ran warm and preferred the cooler weather of the Northland.

They passed empty cells as they zigzagged their way downward. Nora silently questioned why they hadn’t put Isla in one of them, why she needed to be so far down.

Kellan didn’t stop until they were at the lowest level of the castle. He did one of his inspections, eying her up and down, checking to make sure Nora was okay.

It was freezing, causing Nora to shiver. Kellan moved his arm as if to wrap it around her, then lowered it back to his side. Nora frowned, but she couldn’t blame him. Nora herself didn’t know if she would have welcomed it.

Instead of warding off the chill with an embrace, he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles a few times while he stared into her eyes. Somehow, it helped, and she felt warmth creeping from her torso towards her hands and feet.

Kellan’s touch was far superior to any coat she’d ever owned. His blue eyes were glowing, and she felt herself caught in their pull.

“This way,” he said, breaking the trance.

They walked beside a small underground stream running alongside the stone walkway. She trailed closely behind, her hand still clasped firmly in his.

They paused outside a small wooden door near the end of the path. Kellan motioned to the guard who was standing watch. The man detached a large ring from his belt and began thumbing through his thirty or forty keys.

The door was lined with six different locks. Again, Nora pondered the location and security of the prisoner. Was Isla some sort of escape artist? A half-dozen locks on a door to a cell at the lowest possible echelon under a fortified castle seemed like overkill.

Nora held her tongue. She would have some answers momentarily.

When the door opened, Kellan grabbed a torch. “I will go in first. Stay by the door once you enter.”

Nora did as he instructed, waiting while Kellan went further into the dark room. He walked the outer edge of the cell and lit the mounted sconces in each corner. It must have been pitch black in the cell without them.

As Nora’s eyes adjusted, she looked around for Isla. She wasn’t prepared for what she saw.

On the far side of the room, there was a body crumpled on the floor. There were heavy chains all around it. They snaked over and under limbs. She could see where they were attached to the wall, but not where they attached to the prisoner.

The restraints were colossal, fit for a giant—or two. Isla probably couldn’t even lift her arms or legs under the weight of them.

Nora took a step closer, trying to get a better look. Kellan stepped towards Nora, partially blocking her path.

“Please. No closer,” rasped a voice. It came from the body on the floor.

“Isla?” Nora asked.

Isla tilted her head in Nora’s direction. There was just enough light for Nora to make out the damage inflicted on the female.

The she-wolf’s once beautiful face was bloodied and bruised. Her tan skin was yellow and purple. One eye was almost swollen shut. Her hair was matted with congealed blood and what had to be dirt. She had ugly, deep scratches everywhere. The imprint of what looked like two hands were on her throat.

Nora’s stomach clenched. She felt ill seeing the evidence of such violence. She could not reconcile what had been done to the female, guilty or not. This was not justice. This was torture.

Violence was almost unheard of in Gwydion and Nora was neither trained nor groomed to handle it. She had been primed to fight, to defend herself against a wolf, but this was not the result of a challenge within the pack.

This was something sinister and ugly. Someone had put their hands around Isla’s throat, had tried to choke the life out of her, to harm and maim.

Wolves did not use their human form to mete out justice in this manner. If the sentence was death, it was done swiftly, in wolf form. It was one of the few things her father knew for certain when coaching her on the trials she may face.

Nora looked at Kellan. Were those markings from his hands? Nora could hardly imagine it, but something in her feared they were, feared she would never want those hands upon her skin again.

“What did you do to her?” Nora quietly demanded.

“Nora—”

The seal she’d held firmly over her emotions broke at the sound of his placating tone.

“Look at her! How could you? She is female. She is weaker than you are. I knew wolves could be ruthless, but to go as far as torturing a female? Oh, Kellan, how could you?” Nora’s voice trembled under her accusation.

Her instincts screamed she was wrong, but the words were already out. She could believe those weren’t his handprints, but Kellan was still the King. He could have sanctioned the act.

“I didn’t. You don’t understand—”

“Get out,” she interrupted.

“Excuse me?” Kellan asked, his voice biting, angered by his wife’s assumptions.

“Leave. I will speak to her alone.”

Kellan made no move to exit.

“Goddess above, Kellan. You are a wolf. You can hear everything. Wait outside so I at least feel like I have the illusion of privacy. Isla is battered. And chained. There is nothing more she can do to me.”

Kellan’s lips pressed firmly together. He was trying to maintain control of his mouth, to think before speaking to Nora. He knew Isla was weakened and probably not a threat right now, but it didn’t take away any of his apprehension.

“I will be right outside,” he said and reluctantly exited the room.

Nora was surprised he complied with her demand. A trace of optimism emerged inside her heart. She would have to think on that later.

Nora moved slowly toward Isla, trying not to startle her. She kneeled on the floor, in front of the she-wolf, looking her over, checking for more injuries.

“Isla?”

Isla looked up at her queen, shaking.

“I will not harm you,” Nora said as she put a hand on Isla’s shoulder. Isla began to cry.

“I am so sorry. I do not know how the water was poisoned, my lady,” Isla sobbed. “I did not know the water was tainted with hellebore! I don’t even remember pouring it.”

“Shhh, shhh. Calm yourself.”

Nora put her arms around the pathetic creature. Gone was the jealously over Kellan’s past with Isla. She was too pitiful to hate.

“We need to speak if you are to have any hope of getting out of this mess with your life.”

Isla nodded, trying to compose herself. She kept her eyes down, unwilling to look at Queen Nora.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions, Isla. I suggest you be nothing but honest with me, even if you think it is something I won’t like hearing. Are we clear?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good,” Nora said, trusting Isla would not lie. “Did you poison me?”

“I don’t know why I would have. I would never do that to Kellan.”

Isla didn’t say she would never poison or harm Nora. Isla’s concern was for Kellan. Nothing in her statement showed any concern for Nora.

Nora took her time weighing Isla’s declaration. It did not bother her as much as she would have thought, likely because of the sad state in which she had found Isla. Had she been at full-strength and looking upon Nora or Kellan as she did the night of the banquet, Nora might feel quite different.

Fortunately for the she-wolf, Nora did believe Isla did not want to cause Kellan pain, or to be on the receiving end of Kellan’s wrath—and he would have easily figured out where the poison came from. Wolves were usually cunning and this sloppiness at covering the trail was anything but crafty.

Still, something bothered Nora. She suspected nothing was as it seemed, not with Isla’s supposed memory loss.

“You are wolf, Isla. You likely would have smelled something in the pitcher as you carried it around. You are the one who poured it.”

Isla covered her head with her hands, obviously in distress. “I don’t remember doing that,” she wept, "but you saw me. Others saw me. So, I must have been the one to fill your goblet.”

“You say you do not remember pouring it. Do you remember the banquet at all?”

“N-no. I have lost time. I cannot explain it.”

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“Being carried through the woods and into the castle. My arm was broken. My ankle mangled. I think that someone,” she hiccupped. “Someone hurt me. Badly.”

“Before that? Before the banquet?”

Isla’s head bowed. “I remember the summer solstice, sitting on the cliffs, watching the sun set. Kellan had left and would return with his mate—with you—the following day. I was … beside myself. I stayed until dark. Then, I don’t remember anything until the woods, awaking in the worst pain I’d ever felt.”

Isla looked up into Nora’s eyes, beseeching. “But I cannot explain how it happened. I … I cannot.”

Isla rubbed her forehead as if it pained her. Nora suspected the duress was getting to Isla and possibly manifesting physically.

“Did Kellan,” Nora started, pushing past the lump in her throat. “Did Kellan physically harm you in any way? Or was it another wolf?”

A low growl came from the other side of the door, but Nora ignored it. She had to know Isla’s answer.

She did not truly believe Kellan was capable of such ruthlessness, but his behavior since the poisoning had been worrisome. Nora wanted Isla to confirm his innocence. She needed it.

“No, no, of course not. If Kellan was sure I alone tried to kill you, I would be dead. He would not have hesitated. He would not have brought me back here. And … wounds inflicted by another wolf would have healed by now.”

Nora looked at the door, relieved Kellan was not the one to put Isla in this state; relieved that no wolf was responsible.

She felt a hint of guilt that she had even considered it had been Kellan. He was not a monster. Deep down, she knew this.

Unfortunately, now she was stuck wondering who—or what—could have inflicted this much damage on a wolf’s body? And why?

Wolves healed fast. Isla must have been near death if this was what accelerated healing looked like.

“Kellan would have been able to smell another wolf on me. It wasn’t a wolf,” Isla added, her face wet from her anguish.

“Then who was it, Isla?” Nora asked, almost afraid of the answer.

Isla shook her head and wept inconsolably. This was not the proud she-wolf from the banquet. This female was broken.

Nora did not believe Isla a threat. There was no good reason why her husband would keep Isla in this room, in this state.

“Kellan?”

The door creaked open and her husband entered. He said nothing as he watched his mate hold Isla, his fury draining at the sight.

His mate’s compassion was astounding. It was not his nature, and he admired Nora for her ability to do what he could not, to be the soft to his hard.

“Was she lying?” Nora looked at Isla as she asked.

“I do not smell deceit in her responses. I do not think she is lying about her memory loss.”

“Then why would you keep her here like this? It is cruel.”

“Let us speak upstairs. There is more to this than you know, and I do not wish to discuss things in front of her.”

“Does she not deserve to know the truth, Kellan?”

“Nora, I don’t have all of the facts. I would prefer not to give her a falsehood over which she may obsess. I do not wish to injure her emotional state further.”

“I think being chained like this in the dungeon of your castle is injuring her plenty.”

“Our castle,” he corrected.

Nora ignored his statement as she stood and stroked the top of Isla’s head. She was upset with Isla’s actions, yet pitied her at the same time.

“I want her cleaned up,” Nora said to Kellan, “I want her wounds dressed. I’m sure I won’t convince you to release her, but I want a bed in here and warm linens. She’s freezing.”

“We tried, Nora.”

“What do you mean?”

“We tried to clean her up, to give her a mattress and some warm blankets. She refused. She’s lost right now and seems to be incapable of making decisions. We will discuss it upstairs.”

His tone brokered no argument.

“Alec?” he called.

The guard from outside came to the door.

“See to Isla. Perhaps now she will allow Agatha to visit and treat her.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Nora was confused. None of this made any sense, especially Isla’s refusal to have her wounds treated.

Kellan held out his hand and Nora took it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do.

The vice around Kellan’s heart loosened the tiniest bit.