Chapter 3
Chapter Three
EVANTHE
“Evanthe!”
The sound of a familiar voice makes me dash back down the stairs and out through my doorway to the street, where Mistress Nina is approaching. She is escorted by the baker, Master Harry, who lives just past us.
“My sweet lass!” She hurries forward, snatching me close for a hug before setting me away so she can inspect me. “You’re alive. I thought—” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “I thought they’d taken you, or hurt you.”
I catch Harry watching us before he moves on.
“What happened?” Mistress Nina demands. “I was cut off afore I could reach the garrison, and when it was over, I searched and could not find you anywhere.”
“A raider chased me. A wolf…” There was more than one wolf, for I’m thinking about the russet one too.
“He killed the raider. Then I—” I am reluctant to confess that I went into the woods, but the softening in her expression tells me she already knows there is more, and I add, “I ran into the woods… and… and the wolf found me.”
An emotion I cannot pinpoint flickers over her face before she drags me in for another hug.
“Don’t mind it, dear. I dare say you were terrified. The wolf was likely only curious. But you have your charm. It marks you as my… apprentice. And the beasts respect the ancient lore.”
My mind spins, trying to put the pieces together. Why did she hesitate over the word apprentice? I begin to suspect that Mistress Nina is more than she seems. That maybe she called the wolves…
But no. I must be mistaken.
“He didn’t touch you, now, did he?”
She sets me at arm’s length, her eyes searching mine.
My cheeks heat. I love Mistress Nina well already, and I am lying by omission.
I did not have the charm, and I feel guilty for not confessing as much.
“No,” I say, no longer lying by omission only, now. “He did not touch me.”
The tingling at my throat grows to a burn, like it is taunting me for my denial.
“Well, all right then, dear. So long as we are both whole, we shall take that as a blessing. Let’s get out of this cursed cold. You must be frozen to the bone.”
She turns toward the shop then stops abruptly. It is not her shop she looks at. Even before I turn, I know she is arrested by the scores on my front door.
She sighs softly before she turns back to me in question.
I’m sure guilt is written all over my face.
“Let’s go inside.” She takes my hand gently, but this time, her fingers tremble faintly, whereas they did not before.
RANULF
When I enter the pack den and our quarters, I find Alden and Beric—not as the gray and russet wolves I more often see, but in human form.
It is not a good sign. It means they want to talk.
And while we can communicate in wolf form, when there are serious matters to be addressed and we want clear heads, we do so in our human form.
I resist for long moments. I am the leader of our triad. They’ll get in fucking line, or I will beat the pair of them until they do.
Alden folds his arms over his lean chest.
Beric glares at me from the other side of the hearth, all brooding hunger.
The amount of attitude the pair of them pummel me with is toeing the line of insubordination.
I shift to human. It is godsdamned uncomfortable, and I roll out my shoulders. I loathe this form, and rarely keep it for longer than I must. I dare say, now that I’m about to claim a human mate, I’ll need to spend more time like this.
Still, she was not averse to my wolf…
A sly smile slips out.
“You are going to tell us, then?” Alden demands.
I shrug. “You already know.”
“It is the pretty one,” Beric says. “With the dark hair and the scent of wildflowers.”
I nod once.
“I only saw her from a distance,” Alden says, sharing a look with Beric before he turns to me. “Her scent clings to your skin even now. You must have gotten closer to her than what I saw in the town.”
“I marked her,” I say. “And her door.”
Beric’s expression turns smug. “We know about the door, anyway. We marked it too.”
“The fuck you did.” My voice lowers to a growl. It is all I can do to keep my wolf inside.
“We are a triad,” Alden points out, as if it is not fucking obvious. “What one claims, so do all.”
“You did not need to mark the godsdamned door. I already had it covered.”
“And her room?” Beric arches a brow. “In your seed.”
My temper rises. “Did you seed her things too?”
That I am acting irrationally does not temper my urge to slug my second in the jaw for scenting our mate’s personal space.
“We didn’t have fucking time,” Alden mutters, his jaw tightening as he glares right back at me.
I shrug nonchalantly and admit, “It did not take me fucking long. Her scent was potent. My dick was already dripping seed. I barely brushed it against her bedding, and I came like a green whelp.”
Beric chuckles. “She is definitely the one, then. You said you marked her. Where did you find her, and how did she react to you?”
“In the woods. Afterward. She had fled there.”
“Already drawn to us,” Alden says, nodding.
“I believe so. Although I’m surprised Mistress Nina didn’t put a ward on her. She is not so congenial toward our kind.”
“You make a good point,” Beric agrees, frowning now. “The seamstress is canny. And aware that we would see a pretty, young, unmated lass as our right to claim. She would know as much.”
“Well, it is our luck that she did not,” Alden says. “Mistress Nina will know what the marks on the door mean. It is her duty to prepare the lass.”
“Everybody in the godsdamned town will know what the marks mean,” I say, dryly.
“They better not hurt her,” Beric suddenly growls. “Most of them are weak and superstitious. And besides, it is been a year since our pack collected a wolf tithe for their protection. Their memories fade too soon.”
“They will not hurt her,” I say, although I am now struck by a sense of worry. “Mistress Nina will caution any fool against it. But before we can claim her, we have matters we must attend. The pack leader demands a challenge for any wolf who would take a human mate… even me.”
Alden rakes his fingers through his shaggy brown hair. “Torric will approve it. He has a mate of his own and will be congenial to others mating. His lass has mellowed his temper for sure.”
“He will approve it,” I agree, “or I will challenge the bastard myself.”
Alden smirks. “Your aggression is already rising,” he says approvingly. “How does she taste? Did you taste her cunt?”
I huff out a breath. “I marked her throat. The lass was shaking and terrified, although she certainly smelled of lust as well. It was not the fucking time to be tasting her pussy. It would have tipped my wolf over the edge. I’d have rutted her then and there.
Which would not have been advisable, for we do not yet have permission, and, further, have not prepared our quarters for her as good wolf mates should. ”
“A mate,” Alden says, grinning now. “Finally, it is our turn to claim a mate.”
“Aye,” I say. My gaze moves over our quarters, which are part of the bigger pack cave system. Spacious, as befits our high-ranking status. But the bed is made for our wolves, not a human lass. “We shall need fresh pelts, and more of them. Along with other things a human mate will need.”
“Those scented washing sands that human mates among our pack seem to love so well,” Alden suggests.
“Reckon there will be some in the stores from the last tribute. If not, we can send for some. The townsfolk will be more amenable in the wake of an attack.”
“And books,” Beric says. “Human lasses have a weakness for books of all kinds. We should get a selection and note which ones she favors.”
“Rugs, too,” Alden adds. “Something to soften the stone floor. Our wolves do not mind so much, but she is a human and will find it rough and cold on her little naked toes.”
“She could wear shoes,” Beric points out.
We both turn and glare at him.
“Ah.” His lips curve up. “No shoes. No clothes of any kind. That is a privilege she will need to earn. I agree—we shall need the softest rugs for the floor. We will need to clean out the fireplace, and stack plenty of wood beside it. The cold does not trouble a wolf, but our human lass will need to be comfortable.”
“Indeed,” I agree, thinking about how my wolf fur will keep our precious mate warm. She may snuggle her cold toes against me…
I stretch out my neck and ignore the hardness of my cock. “I fucking hate this form. But we need to stay as human a while yet, else we cannot get everything to her liking.”
“Do you think she’d take to our wolves, too?” Alden asks hopefully.
I think about her against the tree, trembling, her eyes wide—but that aroused tendril crawling in the back of my throat before it lodged in the center of my chest… telling me she is the one.
“Aye,” I say, scraping a hand down my stubbly jaw. “Mayhap the lass might prefer it.”
EVANTHE
Mistress Nina leads me through to the kitchen, then bustles about, setting the kettle to boil. She shoos me off to wash up and change.
When I return, the kitchen is warm and cheery. Bacon sandwiches wait on two plates at the table and she has poured the tea. She has washed up in my absence too, and takes the seat opposite, stirring a generous spoonful of honey into her tea.
Although daylight is creeping in, it has the look of another dull day, and all the lamps are lit.
It is hard to reconcile what happened last night, now, in the light of day. Enclosed here, one might think it never happened at all.
I add honey to my tea and stir it for an overly long time.
“Where did you go?” I ask. “Last eve?”
“I called them,” she says, lifting her eyes from her tea and meeting mine.
“The shifters?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Her lips tighten. “That is not something spoken of. But always there has been one woman in Merrywood who bears the mantle of summoning the beasts. When the last woman died, I took on the role. Still, it is different for me…”
“I don’t understand any of this,” I say.
“You said Pippa had nothing between her ears, and it was a fanciful tale about them taking lasses. Then you gave me the charm, and…” My eyes bounce nervously around the room as my words tumble out, but now they lift to meet hers.
“I did not have the charm.” There, my truth is out.
“I had put it in my dress pocket. It was still there when I fled to the woods.”
I swallow, lift the charm from my pocket, and place it on the table between us.
She leans back, almost like she is moving away from the charm. “I already knew as much.”
Well, that clears that up… Still, I dare say the scores on my door were a bit of a giveaway.
“What do the marks on my door mean?”
“They have claimed what is inside.” She hesitates, glancing toward the window.
“They?”
“They never hunt alone.” Her eyes meet mine. “A triad is the usual configuration, but sometimes it is two, and sometimes it is more. Very occasionally, one.”
My fingers go to my throat and the tingling there.
Her eyes narrow. “Gods, child. He touched you. You said he had not!”
It is not a question. I nod anyway. Besides which, we have already established that I did not mention the lack of charm… I cannot meet her gaze any longer.
“My dearest Evanthe,” she says at length. “There is no changing what is done.”
“And what is done?” I demand. “Why did you not warn me? Why not say it plainly?”
“I gave you a charm. Were my instructions confusing when I told you to put it on and never take it off?” Her face softens as she sees my mounting distress. “Sweet lass. Call it fate, the Goddess at work—call it what you will. They have chosen you. When they’re ready, they will claim.”
“And… w-when might that be?”
“Days, months—it’s been known to take longer still. I recall a young woman of eighteen summers being marked, and they did not return for her for two more years. Everyone thought they had forgotten, but wolves never forget.”
The ticking of the clock is loud in the silence that follows. My eyes turn toward it.
“Clocks create thresholds,” she says.
“Against wolves?” I ask, confused—for they entered my room; I am sure they did.
“No, my dear.” She pauses, seeming to wrestle with whether or not to elaborate. “There are worse things than wolves out there. But none of that is a worry for you now. Nothing—alive, dead, or that lingers between—is foolish enough to come between a wolf and his claim.”