Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
L othar breathed a sigh of relief as they left the bustling marketplace behind and started up the hill towards the convent. He knew Jana had been noticed but the way she had leaned into him - and his hand placed warningly on the hilt of his sword - had prevented anyone from approaching them. She hadn’t seemed to notice, or at least hadn’t commented on, the wide street leading to the gates of the arena.
The convent loomed ahead, its weathered stone walls a stark contrast to the vibrant marketplace below. Despite its imposing appearance, someone had transformed the outer courtyard into a lush profusion of color and scent from the tiny flowers half-hidden beneath their showier cousins to the flowering vines that surrounded the passageway leading to the entrance.
She took a deep breath and smiled up at him, the tension easing from her shoulders.
“This is beautiful.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, returning her smile. “It is said that the hand of Freja blesses the gardens here.”
“It makes me feel at home.”
He tried not to let the casual words give him hope, but perhaps it was possible that she would want to remain with him, even if Freja offered her a way to return.
Her smile faded as they approached the passageway. Intricately carved runes covered the walls, leading to a pair of massive wooden doors with a stern-faced male on either side. He tensed as the guards focused on her. He recognized them - Kroll and Varn, warriors known for their fierce dedication to protecting the Brides. Under normal circumstances, he’d appreciate their vigilance, but not when it was directed at his mate.
“Hold.” Kroll’s deep voice echoed against the stone walls as he and his companion stepped forward, hands on their swords. “Why is this Bride with you, Lothar?”
“She is not a Bride. She is a female in need of answers.”
“Then she may enter. Alone.”
The Curse shivered across his skin.
“She’s with me,” he growled.
Kroll’s eyes narrowed.
“You withdrew from the Trials.” His massive hand reached towards her. “She must be protected-”
She cried out and stumbled backwards, the sound igniting something primal in his chest. He caught Kroll’s wrist in an iron grip.
“Touch her and lose the hand,” he growled again, baring his tusks. The mate bond burned hot in his blood, demanding he protect her at all costs.
Varn moved to flank them, his hand on his weapon.
“The law is clear. All the Brides must be protected.”
“She’s not a Bride,” he repeated, maintaining his grip on Kroll while keeping himself between Jana and Varn, then switched to English. “Jana, stay behind me.”
He felt her press against his back, her fingers clutching his shirt. The trembling in her hands fueled his anger at the guards. After everything she’d been through, after finally starting to trust him, these idiots were destroying her sense of safety.
“Back. Off.”
His voice dropped to a dangerous rumble as he kept his eyes locked on Kroll’s. The scent of her fear tore at his control as his Beast stirred, demanding to be released. His muscles coiled tighter as she trembled against his back. The urge to transform, to tear these threats apart, burned in his blood.
“Not. One. Step. Closer.”
Each word came out as a guttural growl. His vision started to blur at the edges, taking on the red tinge that preceded transformation. Kroll and Varn exchanged glances and he saw their eyes begin to darken.
“She’s mine to protect,” he snarled, fighting to keep his voice steady. His Beast’s instincts screamed to claim her, mark her, shield her from all threats. He forced down the urge, knowing it would terrify her. “If you do not trust me, consult King Ulric.”
Small fingers clung tighter to his shirt as the guards exchanged another glance. The contact helped anchor him and gave him something to focus on beyond the rage. He wouldn’t let his Beast emerge. He wouldn’t give her another reason to fear.
“We should verify with the king,” Varn agreed, lowering his weapon, but Kroll’s lip curled in challenge.
“The Bride should still come inside while we wait for a response.”
“She’s not going anywhere without me.”
“We can’t risk letting an unmated male inside,” Kroll growled, shifting into an aggressive stance. “Especially not one so close to turning.”
Fear spiked her scent again and his Beast roared inside his mind, demanding release. His vision swam red at the edges.
The massive wooden doors behind the guards creaked open and Jessamin emerged, flanked by her personal guard. She calmly surveyed the scene as both guards snapped to attention.
“What is happening here?”
“Lothar refuses to let this Bride enter alone,” Kroll said.
“She is not a Bride and she’s not going anywhere without me.” Despite his best attempts, his voice came out in a deep growl.
Thoughtful blue eyes traveled from his face to Jana’s.
“He is correct that he is not one of my Brides,” Jessamin agreed. “But all females are welcome here. Let them enter.”
“But my lady,” Kroll protested, “he’s dangerous.”
Jessamin studied him again, then turned to Jana. “Would you prefer to enter alone?”
“No,” she whispered, pressing closer to him. “Please.”
The simple words, the trust in her touch, helped him push back his Beast’s rage. He drew in a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax.
Jessamin smiled and gestured gracefully towards the open doors.
“Then enter, both of you.”
The guards stepped back, bowing their heads in deference to their queen, and he guided Jana forward, keeping himself between her and Kroll as they passed through the doorway, his Beast still simmering beneath the surface.
Inside, a covered walkway wrapped around a sun-drenched courtyard where climbing roses twined up ancient pillars. Several women worked among the overgrown beds, clearing away dead growth to reveal fresh green shoots beneath. Their quiet chatter and occasional laughter drifted across the space.
Her grip on his arm loosened slightly as she took in their surroundings, curiosity replacing fear. The change helped calm his protective instincts and his Beast finally started to settle, responding to the atmosphere of serenity that seemed to permeate the very stones.
“This is lovely,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she absorbed the details.
He nodded, unable to speak yet as he focused on fully subduing his Beast. The peaceful setting helped, but having her so close, still holding his arm, did more to ground him than anything else. His muscles gradually unknotted as the last traces of battle-readiness faded.
Jessamin dismissed her guards and came to join them.
“From what I have read, the Sisters of Freja believed in creating spaces of harmony and healing. We’ve tried to maintain that tradition as we restore the gardens. Please come with me.”
He followed Jessamin down a series of hallways, still keeping Jana’s hand tucked firmly in his arm. The sitting room she led them to was small but elegant, with several cushioned chairs and shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, warming the space.
An elderly female appeared with a tray of steaming tea almost as soon as they arrived. The familiar spicy aroma filled the room as Jessamin poured three cups with practiced grace, then studied Jana over the rim of her cup.
“As I said outside, you are welcome here, but why have you come?”
She looked at him, then back down at her cup.
“I’m looking for answers. About how I got here, why I’m here.”
Jessamin nodded slowly, then set down her tea and turned to him.
“Would you give us some privacy? You can stand guard outside if you wish.”
Every instinct screamed at him to refuse. His jaw clenched at the thought of leaving her alone, especially after the incident with the guards. But she looked at Jessamin, then patted his hand.
“It’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
He searched her face, but she looked calm rather than afraid. That didn’t make it any easier to rise.
“I’ll be right outside the door,” he promised gruffly. “Call me if you need anything.”
She nodded, her smile helping soothe his protective urges. He still had to force himself to walk to the door, and the soft click of the latch behind him rang in his ears.
He took up position beside the door, arms crossed, muscles tense. The murmur of female voices drifted through the wood, too muffled to make out words. He tried not to think about what they might be discussing, focusing instead on scanning the hallway for potential threats. No one would get past him to harm her.