Chapter Thirty
Edmond stomped down the stairs, his cock so hard he could have used it as a battering ram, but he had no regrets.
Watching their mate come apart under his hands and Aubert’s mouth had filled him with a satisfaction he had never thought possible.
So responsive beneath their touch, she had been hungry for their attention.
The surprise on her face when Aubert had dipped his head between her thighs and licked her…
As though no man had ever offered her such delights. Not even her betrothed.
If ever he were to come across that warlock again—and he hoped he would—Edmond would have a thing or two to say to him.
With the point of his sword. How could a beautiful, generous woman like their Bella not inspire the devotion of the man she had planned to marry?
Humans. They did not deserve the likes of her.
He and Aubert would make sure Isobella knew how special she was.
How cherished. In and out of the bedchamber. He grinned. Or the training room.
Edmond strode into the hall, his brother on his heels and Isobella but a few steps behind with the broken laces of her dress tied as best she could.
Aimon focused on the wine in front of him.
D’Artagnon dropped a kiss on Constance’s head, and his mate flushed.
Ulrik made no effort at all to hide his smirk, while Remi looked around the table, frowning.
The boy was smart enough to know something important was transpiring, but without werewolf senses he would be at a loss as to what.
Edmond would not be the one to enlighten him.
And Gaharet… Gaharet sat at the head of the table, his astute stare boring into them. Edmond’s wolf hovered close to the surface, preparing for a fight. Gaharet could not, would not, forbid them from being together, and he would tell his alpha so. Right. Now.
Gaharet steepled his hands in front of him, tapping his chin. “I am pleased to see the three of you have come to an understanding, and while I would have liked to give you more time to…bond, we have matters we must deal with.”
Edmond opened his mouth to voice his— He snapped it shut. Gaharet was not angry? He…approved? Satisfaction gleamed in Gaharet’s eyes, matched only by the smug expression on Erin’s face. Their alpha was accepting them both as Isobella’s mates? Aubert was as astonished as he was.
Edmond searched the faces of everyone at the table. Not a hint of reproach, not a suggestion any of them were unhappy with the situation.
“You have taken on a challenge, Isobella,” said Ulrik. “One can only hope Aubert and Edmond will be less grumpy now. Especially Aubert.”
Aubert snarled, and Edmond drew a flushed Isobella into the protection of his arms.
Rebekah punched Ulrik’s arm. “Leave her alone. Isobella, ignore him. He’s just teasing. He can’t help himself.”
Ulrik rubbed his arm in mock pain. “Do I need to take you in hand, woman?”
Rebekah snorted. “You wish.”
Gaharet cleared his throat. “Edmond, Aubert, Isobella.” Gaharet gestured to seats at the table.
“Remi has found Didier and the warlock. There has been no sighting of the witch Cordelia yet. Remi has people still searching. And it seems the Comtesse is not only colluding with Faucher and Cordelia. Lothair has sent word Lance has been sneaking into Langeais Keep to see her.”
Edmond froze in the act of sitting. “Lance has been in Langeais Keep? Lothair will string his guards up by the innards for letting him through the gates.”
Consternation settled on Gaharet’s face like a familiar friend. “I doubt he is coming in through the front gate. He is using the tunnel.”
“He would still have to pass through the postern gate,” Ulrik pointed out. “And how did he know about the tunnel? I only found it by following the traces of your scent.”
“What tunnel?” asked Aimon.
Edmond raised an eyebrow at Aubert. His twin shrugged. They knew of no tunnel.
“There is a tunnel leading from the storerooms beneath the wall of the keep. It comes out near the postern gate,” said Gaharet. “Lothair must not know of it, or he would have had it sealed up.”
“Lance knew about Didier. And Cordelia. I would bet my best sword he knew about the tunnel, too.” Lance was the oldest of them all. He had witnessed and been a party to many things they had not. “Age does have its advantages.”
“The question is, what are we going to do about it?” Ulrik pushed aside his untouched goblet of wine.
“We have enemies on all fronts. Lance, Cordelia, this warlock from the twenty-first century. The comtesse and her chevaliers from House Allard. Faucher. We may have reconciled with Lothair, but that could change. He is unpredictable at best.”
“We handle them one at a time,” said Farren, Kathryn’s father and the voice of reason and experience. “There is no favorable outcome if we spread our forces too thin. We use what we have at our disposal to even the odds.”
Aimon shook his head. “We cannot risk exposing our true natures.”
Edmond would like nothing more than to turn wolf and hunt their enemies down, but Aimon was right. Exposing their secret would only aid their enemies. And Faucher would be ready for them.
“You are thinking as a werewolf, not a chevalier,” said Farren. “Lothair will not tolerate Lance sneaking in to see his wife. My guess is he is turning the keep upside down searching for that tunnel as we speak. When he finds it, he will destroy it.”
“And I will eat my soiled gambeson if he has not confined the comtesse to her chambers,” said Ulrik.
“And banished the House Allard chevaliers from his keep,” added Edmond.
“Lance will know something is amiss.” Gaharet leaned back in his chair.
“He will avoid Langeais for a time. Mayhap he already is. Until recently, he had never made a direct move against us. When he did, it did not work out so well for him. Newly turned she-wolves and a farmer’s pitchfork had him fleeing.
His body was not the only thing wounded.
That he is using the comtesse like he used Archeveque Renaud suggests he is avoiding direct confrontation. ”
“Don’t forget he used Cordelia’s spell,” said Erin. “Chances are, if we were to find him, we would find Cordelia.”
Isobella tensed beside him. “I don’t think you want a confrontation with Cordelia. Not if you can avoid it. If Lance is using her spells… That’s a battle I would suggest avoiding at all costs.”
“Maybe,” said Gaharet. “But it is one we must inevitably face. Though Farren is right. We need not face it now. That leaves Faucher, Douglas and Didier.”
Aubert thumped his hand on the table. “Douglas is ours.”
“He hurt our mate,” Edmond backed his brother. “It is our right to vengeance.”
“You can have Douglas,” said D’Artagnon, pulling his mate close, “but Didier is mine.”
“That leaves Faucher to me.” Gaharet rose.
“D’Artagnon, Aubert and Edmond will handle Didier and Douglas.
Remi will guide you. Aimon, you will come with me to see Lothair.
Perhaps between the three of us we can find a solution that will not have the pontiff and all his cardinals descending on us by the hordes.
” His gaze settled on his mate, halting her protest. “Ulrik and Farren, you will stay here and help guard our mates. I will not have Lance catching us unawares again.”
Bek’s eyes blazed fire. “I think we did a damn fine job of dealing with Lance the last time he came to visit. Why do we have to stay behind? Because we’re women?
” She turned her ire on her mate. “If you think I’m going to put up with that misogynistic crap from you, well, you’ve got another think coming, buster. ”
Edmond smirked at Ulrik. “You think Isobella has a challenge on her hands with the two of us?”
Ulrik scowled. Edmond chuckled. He was not wrong. Rebekah was no timid girl. She would test Ulrik at every turn.
Gaharet shook his head. “The females will stay behind.”
Erin bristled. “Females? Uh-uh. I’m with Bek on this one. How about you, Kathryn?”
The copper-haired beauty’s eyes lit up. “I have become rather proficient with my sword.”
Aimon almost choked on his tongue.
A muscle in Gaharet’s jaw twitched, but he maintained his calm.
“You”—he swung his gaze to take in all the women at the table—“all of you, are strong women, and you exceeded my expectations when you fought off Lance. I am proud of the werewolves you have become.” He inclined his head to Kathryn.
“And your ability to wield a sword. But you are the future of our pack, and I need to know you are safe. You will stay here.”
“But—”
“No buts, Erin. You are with pup. You will stay behind. Ulrik and Farren will organize the men to stand watch, on the walls and inside the keep. If Lance uses that spell again, he will face experienced chevaliers and a werewolf who can hold his own against him. As well as all of our she-wolves.”
Erin rose, her hands on her hips and her sigh full of exasperation. “I’m pregnant, Gaharet, not dying. Stop treating me like I’m some kind of invalid. Besides, what if Cordelia should decide to pay us a visit? Then, what? Hm?”
Gaharet would not budge. “In all the pack’s experiences with Cordelia, she has never attacked this keep directly. That suggests there is a limit to her power. That she fears to do so because she is not certain she will triumph.”
“Just because she hasn’t tried it before, doesn’t mean she won’t now.” Erin was not backing down. “Everything we’ve learned about her from your father’s journal, from Constance, and now Isobella, tells us she is a powerful witch.”
“Constance can create a ward around the keep,” offered D’Artagnon.
“So can Isobella.” Edmond crossed his arms, sharing in D’Artagnon’s smugness that their mates had not insisted on going.
Isobella was strong and capable. She had proved that on their journey here, but he would be lying if he said he did not wish her to remain within the protective walls of the d’Louncrais keep. Far away from Douglas and Faucher.
Gaharet towered over his mate. “You are staying here. I am the alpha, and my word is law.”
Erin’s gaze turned frosty.
“I think you’re forgetting something.” Isobella’s words cut through the tension, breaking the stand-off between Erin and Gaharet. “Douglas is a warlock.”
“So is Didier,” said Constance. “I am not certain how skilled he is, but he is Cordelia’s son. He may be stronger than we think.”
The dismay on D’Artagnon’s face mirrored his own feelings. From the thunderous scowl on Aubert’s face, his too.
Isobella couldn’t quite meet Gaharet’s stormy eyes, and she gripped her hands together in her lap.
“I don’t mean to question you, Gaharet, but at least one of us is going to have to go with you to help with Didier and Douglas.
And Cordelia might not attack this keep, but a small group of you on horseback might be exactly what she’s waiting for. ”
“I will stay here and ward the keep,” said Constance. “Isobella should go with Aubert and Edmond.”
“No.” Both he and Aubert were out of their seats, their gruff denials echoing in the hall, D’Artagnon’s relief adding irritation to his displeasure.
Constance regarded them with her unusual eyes. “I am sorry, but Isobella needs to be the one to go.”
“Constance has visions,” D’Artagnon said. “She is never wrong.”
A steel band tightened around his heart, and he turned away from the empathy in D’Artagnon’s remaining eye. Edmond slumped into his seat.
“So be it.” Gaharet stared them all down, his wolf close to the surface. “Isobella will go to Langeais with Aubert and Edmond. The rest of the women will remain here. There will be no more discussion. Not from anyone.”
Edmond met the grim determination in Aubert’s eyes. They had once thought they had lost their mate. They had been wrong. Isobella was their true mate, and nothing—not Faucher, not Cordelia, nor the fickle hands of fate—would take her away from them. Not while he and Aubert still breathed.