Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROSAMUND
“He protected you, my lady,” Bert is saying. I listen with half an ear, most of my focus on negotiating the steep steps with legs and feet so numb I barely feel them.
My face also feels numb. Fear is muted, relegated to a dull thumping in my ears. Is the wolf behind us? Is he coming after me? Patting my chest blindly, I find my locket and, like a protective charm, I clutch it in my hand.
Breathe, I tell myself. Bert wouldn’t act so unconcerned if the wolves were here, after us, if…
Not wolves. Just one. Only one.
We step into the great hall, and finally, I find the courage to glance over my shoulder. There he is, strolling behind us, liberally bathed in blood. His hands are free and ungloved. His bloodied face is unmuzzled.
As we proceed, nobody seems to notice us until a lady shrieks. Then a child starts crying, and I know they have noticed Valen’s presence. A man shouts something, and servants rush toward us, only to stop in their tracks when they realize what they’re rushing toward.
Images replay behind my eyes. Of Valen shoving me against the wall. Attacking the two men with the knives. Snapping the ropes and taking off his muzzle. Ripping the man’s throat out.
Bile rises in my throat, and I gag.
“This way, my lady,” Bert says quietly, unobtrusively gripping my elbow and hauling me toward the table where my family is seated. “Don’t look at him. Look straight.”
Pretend nothing happened.
Is that even an option anymore? I still can’t fathom that we were attacked—that I was attacked. In my own home. By my own people.
Saved by the wolf.
I turn around slowly, and there he is, standing with his legs braced apart, his hands clenched into fists by his sides, his head lowered. Even his silvery hair is dipped in red. It drips from his hands, still tipped with long black claws, and his mouth is full of sharp teeth.
Valen…
But before I can collect my thoughts and analyze my experience, let the truth seep into my emotions, my stepfather yells for silence.
It’s only then I notice that the guests have been shoving their chairs back and fleeing to the other end of the hall, mothers clutching their children, the men striking heroic poses while shaking with fear.
My stepfather is standing behind the table, issuing orders to the terrorized servants. “Tie him up! Tie the beast up! Men, here! To me!”
“Stay back,” Valen barks. “Not a step closer.”
“We can take you on,” the man says, “we can—”
“Not a step closer to her,” Valen’s voice rises. “She was attacked before. How do I know you’re not about to do the same?”
“What is this?” Stepfather gestures impatiently at his men. “Move it. Tie him up now!”
Now Valen turns to him. “You brought me here for this, or so you claim. You want me to be her bodyguard? So let me guard her, godsdammit!”
A stunned silence falls over the great hall.
Of course, that’s why he did it. That’s why he protected me. My head finally clears enough to understand the situation. He did it so that he won’t be hogtied and muzzled anymore. Free rein. Free to assault and maul—only he hasn’t tried it yet.
Why hasn’t he tried it? My mind can’t wrap around this, can’t tuck in all the ragged edges of what happened.
Why hasn’t he yet killed me, along with everyone in his path, and escaped?
That’s the question that torments me—the sense that if I blink, he’ll burn everything down, kill everyone I love, and disappear.
A ghost in the night, leaving a trail of crimson behind.
“My lady. My lord.” Bert bows. “I’ll remove him immediately from your presence, tie him up out of sight. If you—”
“He stays,” I say.
It’s Valen’s turn to stare at me.
Stepfather places his hands on the table. “Daughter,” he says. “I’m surprised to see you standing so close to this beast.”
“I’m sure you are. Didn’t expect it, did you?”
“There was an attack on her ladyship’s life,” Valen says. “You wouldn’t know anything about it?”
“An attack!” People start whispering among themselves. “Here at the manor! Again!”
I wait for him to say something more, betray himself, admit he planned the attack on me, but he’s quiet, giving Valen a long, calculating look.
“Are you sure?” Stepfather finally says. “This girl is prone to fits of panic. A sad side effect of her past, I’m afraid. She sees ghosts where there are none.”
“I was there,” Valen says. “Those men attacked her with swords. They meant to kill her.”
Stepfather arches a brow. “Oh? Am I to take a dark fae’s word, now? And I see you standing side by side with her and wonder what you have cooking between you. A little conspiracy perhaps?”
Now he’s lost me. “Conspiracy? Against whom?”
“Your own future, and mine, of course.” Stepfather’s lips thin. “Did he tell you pretty tales of the mountains and that he’s not like other werewolves? That you can trust him?”
“No, he didn’t. He protected me,” I say. “Just as you wanted.”
Valen protected me from my own kind. Of all the insane things to happen, of all the unexpected things.
“My lord!” A servant rushes, breathless, toward us. “We have found two of your servants dead, gutted and throats slashed. They say it was a werewolf—”
“Indeed it was,” Valen says, a slow grin spreading over his blood-splattered face.
This time, the silence that follows is deafening.
“Her ladyship and I made a deal,” Valen says after long moments, breaking it. “I will accompany her to her destination, and she will let me go free once I deliver her there safe and sound.”
“You made a deal, huh?” Stepfather shoots me a narrow, unhappy look.
Heat rises in my neck. I force myself to gaze back impassively. “It is as he says.”
“And you trust a filthy animal’s word?”
“What choice have you left me?” I bite out.
“Unless, of course, you wanted me dead.” If I hadn’t been gazing at him in that moment, I might have missed the barely-there flinch that betrays him.
“Now, you don’t have to concern yourself with my safety.
You have indeed given me the best bodyguard. Who could ever stand against him?”
I’m standing close to Valen, way too close, and he’s free of any bonds. Those claws, those teeth, they’re all I can see. If I said I wasn’t afraid, I’d be lying, but the satisfaction of seeing the annoyance on Stepfather’s face is worth it.
It’s like jumping off a cliff, the waves crashing below, like plunging into a fast-moving river. My heart is racing, slamming against my ribs, heat racing over my skin. Exhilaration pushes the fear back, but later…
Later I’ll pay for it, I know it. If Stepfather doesn’t demand his dues, the nightmares will. Stress always turns into pain, sooner or later. But right now, the defiance feels good, as does surviving the attack I hadn’t seen coming.
“Then… take a seat. Have some dinner,” Stepfather says, waving the servants off. “Everyone, sit down! Dinner continues as planned. Daughter here is making pacts with wolves, as it seems. Isn’t that amazing?”
Scattered laughter meets his words, but everyone is too shaken to play along this time.
Good. Let them see what they have contributed to, what they elected, bringing the savage wolves back into our lives.
Into my life.
Keeping my head held high, praying my shaky legs won’t betray me again, I make my way to my seat, between Stepmother and my cousins, and watch Valen follow me with slow, measured strides. He doesn’t even limp anymore; his wound is obviously already healing.
He’s the very picture of a predator stalking through a flock of innocent sheep.
My cousins gasp when he stops right behind me, that awareness of his presence back with a vengeance, and Stepmother grabs her daughter and scuttles away.
“I’m not eating with a wolfman behind me!” she shrieks. “He’s going to kill us all.”
A fair point. I nod. “That’s what I’ve been saying all along. Now…” Suppressing my fear is second nature to me. An old pastime. My first line of defense, my wall, my castle. So I reach for a platter of food. “Shall we? I’m famished.”