Chapter Thirteen
“That was fun.” Remi chortled. “Did you see that chevalier hit the ground when his horse bolted beneath that low-slung branch? And the one that jumped off?”
Aubert allowed himself a grin. His plan had worked well. A few howls had been all it had taken to spook the horses. And the chevaliers. Faucher’s pursuit was in tatters. It would take time to gather his forces.
Had Faucher told the chevaliers what they were really hunting? Would they have believed him? They would now. And the way the eveque had stared straight at him, fury blazing in his eyes, had removed any doubt he had a gift. Faucher was a sensitive.
“But they were not all there. The one with the crooked nose who was digging up the grave, he was not there. Or the capitaine. And the big guy missing half his ear. He was not there either.” Remi gave him a worried look. “Do you think some of them were still following one of our false trails?”
Aubert shifted in his saddle. He, too, had noticed their numbers had been lacking. By near a score. Were they, as Remi suggested, still following a trail? A smaller troop could travel much faster.
The need to be back with his brother—and Isobella—had him urging his horse into a canter.
His brother’s musk, and the sweeter softer one that was Isobella, carried on the night breeze.
They were close. He would rest easier once he had them in his sights, when they were all together again.
The breeze shifted, and something else carried to him on the air.
The scent of humans. Many of them. The missing chevaliers.
A howl split the air, long and smooth, rising to a high note, then falling. Edmond. Calling for him to rally. His brother needed him.
Isobella.
Aubert lifted his head and answered the call, spurring his horse into a gallop and racing through the forest. Trees whipped at his face and tore at his surcoat. He cared not. He must get to them. To his brother.
He topped a rise to a view that would forever live in his mind. Edmond and Isobella, surrounded by chevaliers—the capitaine, the man with the crooked nose, the big one missing an ear and many others.
Edmond swung his sword and cut off a chevalier’s head.
The body joined the one dying at Edmond’s feet.
Another chevalier crawled away, missing an arm.
His brother swung his sword with brutal efficiency, but there were too many.
And Isobella… She chanted words, rhymes he could make no sense of.
At her feet, men writhed, caught in tree roots that continued to wind around their bodies.
He had no time to marvel at it, for more chevaliers were circling behind her.
Aubert drew his sword and, with an almighty roar, he spurred his horse down the slope. He loosed all restraint, hacking his way through the chevaliers with no finesse or discipline. Nothing, no one would stand in his way of reaching Isobella. They could not lose her, too.
A chevalier attacked him from the side. Aubert did not slow as he took the man’s head.
His warhorse trampled another beneath his hooves.
Edmond brought down a chevalier with a vicious overhand blow.
Isobella screamed as a warrior grabbed at her, her fear and outrage ripping through his chest. A chevalier tried to pull him from his saddle.
Aubert sliced off his arm. He dug deep, calling on his wolf’s strength to give him speed. He would reach her. She could not die.
Isobella chanted. Tree roots whipped through the air and snatched a chevalier off his feet. His shriek cut off as they wrapped around him, smothering him in their grip. A burst of pride hit Aubert in the chest. Their mate was powerful. Strong in her own way.
Aubert dispatched another, and then he was there. In front of her. He slid from his horse, and with his brother, chopped and hacked at any who tried to reach her until they were all dead or dying at their feet.
His chest heaving, he dropped his sword and stormed over to her.
Merde. They could have lost her. In the blink of an eye, she could have been gone.
He patted her down, spinning her around and checking every inch of her.
Please let her not be hurt. Nothing. No obvious injury.
He spun her back to face him. “Are you injured?”
She placed her shaking hands over his. “I’m okay. I…” Her voice shook and tears glistened in her eyes. “I’m a little shaken but not hurt.”
Thank the Fates. He cupped her face and touched his forehead to hers. This beautiful, scared but brave woman, had stood her ground in the face of overwhelming odds. He did not know what he would have done had a chevalier got close enough to injure her.
His breathing choppy, a tightness in his chest and residual panic singing in his veins, he held her close, reaffirming she was safe, unhurt. Alive. He should release her and step away, but he could not. Not until the pounding of his heart eased, until the fear of losing another mate subsided.
Edmond grabbed a wineskin and washed his hands and face of blood, his gaze fixed on his brother.
He wanted nothing more than to snatch Isobella up, and hold her within the safety of his arms, but his brother needed it more.
The reassurance she was safe, unharmed. He cocked his head.
It should bother him, Aubert touching their mate.
Should make him want to rage at the night sky and tear his brother away from her. Strangely, it did not.
It was odd. It had never been like this with Sabine. Aubert would need only brush her arm with his fingertips, and a fury Edmond had never experienced before or since would explode in his chest. The same, he imagined, had happened to Aubert. In the end, it had brought them to blows.
Edmond stoppered the wineskin and tossed it aside, circling the pair.
Poised for his wolf to roar to the surface, he searched his heart for a hint of jealousy, possessiveness.
He found none. It simply was not there. Was she not his mate, but Aubert’s?
Could this be no different for him than with Remi?
His innate need to save those less fortunate.
Ever since he was a pup, he had dragged strays home. Was she but another?
He considered that for a moment, testing the idea. No. The pull was there. The need to claim her and make her his as strong as ever. He wanted to hold her, needed to touch her, as Aubert was, yet he had no desire to wrench her from his brother’s arms.
And his wolf remained silent. No, not silent. It swirled in his mind, intrigued.
Edmond circled them again. Would Aubert react the same as he?
He stepped in close, cocooning Isobella between them.
Aubert did not release her, but neither did his brother challenge him.
Edmond placed his hands on Isobella’s shoulders.
She did not pull away. Aubert did not rage.
He could not take his eyes off his brother, and Aubert’s confusion, the absence of any hint of his wolf, only intrigued Edmond further. What was happening here?
Remi cleared his throat. “I hate to interrupt, but do you think we should move on? Before Faucher gathers his horses?”
Edmond dropped his hands from Isobella’s shoulders and Aubert took a step back. Isobella blinked from his face to Aubert’s. Something flickered in his brother’s eyes, then Aubert shuttered his emotions and spun away from her, reclaiming his sword and stalking off to gather his horse.
Isobella turned to him, bewildered. With a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, Edmond retreated, weaving his way through the dead chevaliers, the blue and white soiled with deep red, to fetch his horse.
Aubert deserved a fair chance to win Isobella over.
Edmond would give it to him, even if it meant backing away from Isobella when everything in him screamed to scoop her up and kiss away her fears.
Remi picked up a blue and white shield, hefting its weight, before tossing it aside.
“So much for not starting a war.” Edmond looped the reins over his horse’s neck and vaulted onto its back. If Isobella were to ride with Aubert for a—
“Isobella rides with you.” Aubert wiped his sword clean, then sheathed it. “I will bring up the rear.” Aubert swung up on his horse and turned his back on their mate. “Remi, stop looting the bodies and saddle up.”
Edmond bit back a retort and nudged his horse beside Isobella, holding his hand out to her and swinging her up behind him. This path they trod with Isobella was going to be hard for Aubert.
Edmond urged his horse into a trot. “I think it is time to go to the d’Louncrais keep.
Gaharet needs to be informed of what has happened here.
” And he would like to see Isobella safe behind solid walls.
Their pack would be there, and every single one of them had motivation enough to defend it with their lives. Their mates.