Her Wolf Protector (Fated Mates of Mirror Academy Romantasy #6)

One

Your father is ill.

No further details, except that she was to come at once, and her stepmother had sent a car to collect her.

A second message from Iselin, her father's driver, followed, with an estimated time of arrival. She was already on her way.

Arwen glanced at the screen at the front of the coach. Some competitive baking show. Well, that certainly explained the salivating. Some of those cakes looked more tempting than the food at the ball.

She sighed. She'd have to rely on Iselin stopping for food, somewhere along the way.

"Stop. I need a lift back to Mirror Academy," Arwen said.

"Yes, miss." The coach driver took his hand off the lever for the doors. He waited until Arwen had ascended the steps and settled in a seat before he said, "Are you ready to go, miss?"

"Yes, indeed."

The other girls at the Academy would have thanked him, and Arwen certainly felt grateful, but she knew better than to say so.

Most of the other students at Mirror Academy were unaware of the supernatural world around them, or the few drops of supernatural blood in their otherwise human veins, but Arwen wasn't one of them.

As the daughter of a fae and a shifter, Arwen had always known her place in this world, and a few others she hadn't yet visited.

And it was a foolish fae indeed who offered her thanks to anyone, lest they interpret it as a debt owed.

Lily – late, as usual – stood in the doorway when they arrived, wearing a gown that glimmered like cut crystal in the coach headlights.

They exchanged places – Lily took a seat on the coach, while Arwen's heels clacked on the steps to the foyer, and Arwen wished Lily a good night.

Something told her change was in the air for Lily, and Arwen fervently wished it would be a change for the better.

The Academy foyer was empty. All the students had gone to the ball, and all the staff were likely tucked up in their rooms, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Arwen slid out of her fancy shoes, carrying them in one hand as she headed up the grand staircase in her stockinged feet. The maids would be busy enough helping the girls out of their gowns later tonight – she could pack her own things without disturbing anyone.

Packing took less time than she'd expected.

Perhaps because after four years at the Academy, she'd grown used to clearing her room at the end of semester, and this would be the last time.

She'd submitted all her assignments and lab reports, so it had just been a matter of waiting for her final grades and an invitation to the graduation ceremony before she'd be gone for good.

Leaving a little early...well, family was more important than anything, and her father was all the family she had.

So when he called...or when her stepmother called her on his behalf, of course she raced to his side. That's what family was for.

By the time Iselin had arrived, Arwen had brought her packed suitcases down to the foyer, persuaded Brenda, the Academy cook, to let her make a sandwich from whatever she could find in the walk-in refrigerator, eaten said sandwich plus an apple tart Brenda had insisted she have, before almost falling asleep on the staircase.

"Is this all, miss?" Iselin asked in the same flat, emotionless voice she'd used all Arwen's life.

Between her robotic voice and her iron-grey curls that never seemed to budge even in the strongest winds, Arwen and her father had always joked that Iselin was the original Iron Lady.

Her father had once said he'd created Iselin to Lady Lovelace's specifications, but that lady had died before the automaton was complete.

Arwen had always wondered if that had been a joke, too, but she'd never been brave enough to ask Iselin about her origins.

Not to mention the unspoken rule in the supernatural world that you never asked anyone what sort of supernatural being they were.

You were supposed to pretend everyone was human until told otherwise.

Which was probably a good thing in case you'd made a mistake and you were actually talking to a bog-standard human.

"Yes, that will be all, Iselin," Arwen said as she slid into the back seat of the grey Rolls. Whatever else Iselin might be, she was definitely one of the best drivers in the British Isles, if not the world. The drive home was so smooth, Arwen drowsed the whole way without waking once.

Until Iselin announced that they were home, of course.

Arwen scrambled out of the car, heedless of what she looked like. All that mattered was that she didn't waste a moment getting to her father's bedside.

He was sleeping, his chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm that had Arwen breathing a sigh of relief. She'd been so worried...

"Da? I'm here," she said softly.

"My heart?" Da mumbled, his eyelids fluttering.

Arwen gripped his hands. "It's me, Da."

"Arwen. My heart." Da beamed. "You like the dress."

Arwen glanced down. In all her rush to pack and head home, she'd forgotten to change out of her ballgown. "It's beautiful, Da. Thank you."

There were no debts between family.

"Spun spider silk. Stronger than armour. It will protect you. Must protect you."

Arwen could only shake her head. Spider silk clothes were something people wore in the fae world, not this one. Her father really must be ill if his mind was wandering.

"What happened, Da? Ravenna said you were sick."

"My heart. My only child. Through all the ages...everything that is mine will pass to you, and you alone. Oh, my heart..." He closed his eyes and stilled.

Arwen panicked. "No, Da...Da!" She squeezed his hands with all her might.

He took a slow, shuddery breath. "You must...you must..." Another tortuous breath. "You must remember to claim...your fae..."

Bright lights clicked on overhead, dazzling Arwen.

"So you did get my message, even if you didn't deign to respond.

You could have at least warned me so that I could get your room ready.

Now you'll have to wait here while I wake the maids to do what they could have done last night, if you'd only had the courtesy to send word you were coming.

" Ravenna clapped her hands and marched out of the room.

All life left the room with her.

Arwen turned to look at her father, but it was too late.

His limp hands slid from hers, already cooling in the wintry air.

Only now could she see that his lips were blue.

His heart. Of course, his heart. Damaged in some experiment with electricity centuries ago, but he'd survived this long. Until now.

"Da?" Arwen whispered.

Life might have left the room, but something else lingered.

Power, of a sort, swirling and angry, like a storm unleashed.

It hit her like a tsunami wave, knocking her away from the bed where her father's body lay, before surrounding her, holding her so tight she couldn't move. Could scarcely breathe. Couldn't...

The world went black.